As This House Falls Down Around Us
by SaturnineSunshine
Summary: 4x07 that veers off into AU territory. Angst. Passion. CB. "They were in this strange limbo where he didn't know what to do, what to say. She always threw the world as he knew it into chaos."
1. Prologue

A/N: I know I already did a 4x07 fic, but this is something different. This will be a multi fic but I'm pretty sure it won't be that long. Its basically what happened at the end of 4x07 but after that it veers off into AU territory. It won't follow the show. This is just a prologue thing to get it started.

Summary: There was no moving. Not just yet. Not when the warm body next to his had squirmed and contracted and made him yell things that he couldn't remember

Disclaimer: I've done CB fics to Buffy quotes but this is something different. If you find similarities to Season 6 Buffy, that's because there is. Beta-ed by **comewhatmay.x **so it should be pretty good. She said she didn't hate it.

* * *

Chuck Bass stared at the grand ceiling of the Waldorf penthouse. He knew exactly what was pressed cold against his back, but there was no moving. Not just yet. Not when the warm body next to his had squirmed and contracted and made him yell things that he couldn't remember. But as he stared at the ceiling, refusing to look at the perfect form by his side, he couldn't help but think back.

He couldn't help but remember that exactly three years ago he was in this exact position. Not the literal position which he was looking greatly forward to accomplishing again, but the position where he had just done something and he didn't know what it was. He didn't know what he was doing. All he knew was what his hormones and his wants and his desires were telling him.

He wanted her.

He needed her.

He knew there was a third part but he just couldn't admit it to himself. Not when they exchanged_ I hate you's _instead of the other things he used to proclaim to her. She hated him. No matter what he felt for her. He knew it wasn't just hate. He knew it wasn't just love. It was something like it used to be. In the back of limos and hiding from acquaintances. And he couldn't help think of it. He knew what was coming. He knew that she would pretend it never happened as she had years ago.

He also remembered that he had extreme powers of persuasion and just like before, he didn't know what this was but he wasn't letting it go.

He remembered her haughty expression after Thanksgiving and how easily she had crumbled to his will.

Because it had been exactly hers as well.

He remembered how her mask froze into immediate indifference as soon as she saw him.

_Are you we really going to play this game, Waldorf?_

_I have no idea what you're talking about._

His smirk had been lazy and smug and he felt her tremble.

_Fine by me. Do want to just jump straight to the fornicating, then?_

_I told you the events of that night would never be discussed._

_Sure_, he had acknowledged admittedly. _But you failed to specify about the events that succeeded it._

_Don't touch me._

_Alright_, he had answered. _At least until you ask me to. And you will ask me to._

_Not in your life_, she had answered succinctly.

_You can't brush me off just like that. Not to the man who so selflessly accepted your womanhood._

_Selflessly_? Her bitter laugh had been clear and concise and it made him want to kiss her.

_Right_, he had sneered, knowing exactly how to hurt you. _Because I just want you so much?_

_You're the one who's propositioning me. Not the other way around._

_You're the one who slid onto my lap and threw her virginity at me._

_I was drunk._

_You weren't. And you were the one who basically prostituted herself just for those shiny diamonds I procured for you. _

_Like you didn't want it._

He loved how she didn't even bat an eyelash at his accusations. And he knew this was dangerous. He knew that he was falling dangerously into that trap that dear Nathaniel had for that blonde tease. He was lusting after his other half who would never accept his advances.

This, however, was different. Because unlike Nathaniel, he would get what he wanted. He wouldn't be tied down to loyalties, ethics, or values.

This time, he would have her.

_I do._

He also liked how he could make her face drop.

_I suppose that wouldn't have any semblance of meaning to a tease, though._

_A tease?_ She had asked as though in shock. _I slept with you, Chuck._

_Twice_, he smirked. _You get me hot for you and reverted effortlessly back to the subservient housewife. You're a tease. It's only a matter of time before you realize that you and I are a matched pair. There's no one like us. And there never will be._

It hadn't been a manipulative ploy. It was just him. And that was how he knew. This was for real. Because he had spoken his feelings and she had kissed him back.

But right now, Chuck knew that this was a different circumstance altogether. They were more complex people now even if one constant could never change.

They could never be without each other.

It was why he had lunged for her. Her lips parted as he tore their treaty to pieces and all of a sudden she had grabbed him back, thrusting and writhing with him. He saw how her eyes clenched and her mouth opened in needy moans as she threw her head back and all he wanted to do was get closer.

Her lips were painted a delicious blood red that he could taste as his tongue thrust against hers and it fueled the hatred mixed with something he refused to identify.

Her breath shuddered around him as he propped her on a piano that he was sure was bought more for decoration than actual use. The piano that had been played while the Archibalds bestowed the Vanderbilt diamond on her and he got some sort of perverse pleasure out of being closer to her than any husband she would ever have.

Her hand had been at his belt buckle and he let her hand undulate with him as his own eyes clenched shut, trying to ward off the coming storm, attempting to prolong every torturous second. No one could ever feel what he was feeling and how he was feeling it. No one but her, at this very second. No one could know pain and pleasure like he did with her.

His hands grappled with the back of her dress, tangling in her hair as she ripped at his own jacket before he thrust it away with hasty frustration just to get back to her again. Just to rip at the garter attached to the lace underneath before he could meet absolution.

And they did.

Again and again.

They met each other with passion and heat and her legs wrapped live a vise around him as they both cried and purred and screamed.

They rode out waves of desire and pleasure as the house fell down around them.


	2. As Your Heels Dig Into My Back

**A/N**: So I started this when I shouldn't have since I have like 5 multi fics going on but this just has to be written. I honestly dont know how frequently this will be submitted but I'm trying to get my others out frequently so... who knows. But I hope this will suffice for now.

**Summary**: "You didn't exactly complain last night about how I _defiled_ you," Chuck sneered. "And I don't think it's classified as violation when you squirmed with so much pleasure around me. I'm surprised someone didn't call the authorities. It sounded like you were getting murdered."

**Disclaimer**: SL belongs to Buffy. Characters belong to the geniuses at CW and the beta belongs to **comewhatmay.x **who did it twice because she's awesome and I'm an idiot.

_

* * *

_

_I'm positively feverish._

_I've never hated anyone more._

_Every nerve ending in my body is electrified by hatred._

_There is a fire pit of hate burning inside me, ready to explode._

Blair dug her fingernails into the carpet, willing her eyes not to open. But the very fact that she was on carpet and not underneath her silk duvet in lacy lingerie told her that very thing that she had willed herself not to remember. She tried not to remember how he fisted his hand through her hair and ripped her garter to shreds.

She tried not to remember that her dress was currently halfway across the room and not on her body. Goosebumps rose on her arm and although she was no longer wearing her dress, she found her eyes opening of their own accord to discover she was wearing something else.

It smelled like him. She pushed herself onto her side and she knew he was still there. She couldn't bear to look behind her, where he undoubtedly was, but Chuck Bass wouldn't have left his jacket that he had thrust away from him the previous night. It was the sole understanding that if the house had crumbled to the ground, she wouldn't have noticed. Not while he had been touching her like that. Not while she could feel the heat of his eyes burning into her back.

It was something that she could no longer ignore and she turned to her side, clutching his jacket across her body to see him staring at her, completely unabashed that he was wearing even less than she was.

"That's a good look for you."

Her mind was still humming from the memories of piano tops and moans cresting into the night.

"But I must admit, to complete the ensemble, it belongs on the floor."

Blair self-consciously dragged his jacket to cover her thighs. He smirked in amusement at any flesh she bared, hating how they had literally come full circle. Having sex like the sixteen-year-olds they were in the most inappropriate of places.

"Serena," Blair blurted suddenly in horror.

"I don't know what about this situation reminds you about Serena," Chuck said, "but if so, I hope you filmed it."

"You're heinous," Blair said reflexively.

He was looking at her in that way was dangerous again and she knew this was all wrong. This was wrong because they were both falling so fast towards each other like they had the first time and it was just _wrong_.

"Serena must have come home last night," Blair said. "What if she saw us?"

"I could get into that," he said smarmily. "But you don't remember."

"Remember what?"

He was smug and she didn't like it.

"Serena came home while we were recuperating between rounds 1 and 2," he answered. "Good thing she didn't arrive about two minutes earlier or she definitely would have heard you climaxing on top of that piano."

She glared furiously at him, so flustered that she couldn't find the proper words to fight him. Then again, what they had done was the opposite of fighting. Even when they had torn their peace to shreds, they both found a way to turn everything on its head.

"What I'm curious about is if we woke Eleanor," Chuck mused, looking at the ceiling. Blair cursed herself. In the throes of passion even she forgot that her own mother was staying at the penthouse.

"I have to go," Blair announced, getting to her feet. Chuck kept his lounging position on the floor, staring up at her in almost an accusatory glance.

"You have to go," he repeated. "This is your house."

"Fine," Blair snapped. "Then you have to go."

"We both know that isn't going to be happening any time soon."

"Why not?" Blair burst out in frustration. "We hate each other."

"Maybe," Chuck said. "But I can honestly say this enemies with benefits route we're taking has potential. I never knew hating someone so much could lead to such pleasurable ends."

"Well it doesn't," Blair answered. "Because it was just a one-time thing."

"Was it?" Chuck asked in mock curiosity. "Because by basic math, last night I calculated it to being about a five-time thing."

Blair closed her eyes against his words and his sardonic chuckle echoed in her ears.

"Face it, Waldorf," Chuck sighed lazily, "we opened a floodgate last night. There's no going back now."

"Well you need to," Blair answered. "Because this can't happen again."

"Why?"

An answer not coming to mind, Blair just threw his jacket at his face. Knowing she had limited time before he started leering again, she tugged her dress back up her body before starting a search for her shoes.

"I think they landed somewhere behind the piano," Chuck said ever so helpfully. "After you dug them into my back, at least."

"You're not helping," Blair said scornfully.

"Of course I am," he answered. "I'm helping you realize that fighting your desires is futile. Whether we're at war or not, attempting to stop this is about as effective as attempting to stop an avalanche."

"It's possible if you never did anything to start it," Blair replied, keeping herself sane by looking for her shoes and not into the scalding eyes that could always see her right to her core.

"If that were possible," he said. "But we both know it's not."

"Serena could be getting up at any moment," Blair attempted to appeal to his logic. "I doubt she would be pleased at seeing us in this position."

"I can think of a lot of positions that would be pleasing," he said smoothly.

For the first time since exhaustion had overtaken her that night, she let herself look at him. His eyes were probing and intrusive but she knew every word he spoke was the truth. They could never control themselves when they were around each other. And she knew that Chuck was far past caring. She hated how his lack of morals made her strip down even faster but this was something that could not continue.

"Besides," he answered. "I don't quite feel like moving at the present moment."

He leaned back against the piano, tucking his arms behind his head, looking as comfortable as he could muster. Such an act was respectably easy when she was looking at him like that. Her hair that had been tousled almost violently by his own hands made her ripped stockings and rumpled dress even more evident that she had been thoroughly ravished hours previous. If Serena did in fact come down the stairs, there would be no denying what had just happened. But he just couldn't help it. He couldn't help but cave to her.

"You really think that enacting a sit-in is going to change what has to happen?" Blair asked. "This isn't happening again."

"You said that already."

"This was a mistake," Blair said strongly, "and I won't defile myself by letting you violate me again."

She shouldn't have been standing that close to him because fury so familiar to her birthday flashed in his eyes and his hand clasped around her wrist, pulling her down into his lap.

"You didn't exactly complain last night about how I _defiled_ you," Chuck sneered. "And I don't think it's classified as violation when you squirmed with so much pleasure around me. I'm surprised someone didn't call the authorities. It sounded like you were getting murdered."

"Let go of me."

He could affect her too effortlessly and too greatly. He was wearing absolutely nothing and their predicament was far too compromising.

"Make me," he taunted. She attempted to berate him across his far too naked chest but it only further incurred his enthusiasm. "I really wasn't planning to have my morning fraught with play fighting with you."

"Play fighting," she laughed bitterly. "This is me hating you."

"You made quite the impression last night," he answered. "So much that I was looking forward to more of that the present moment."

"Well you won't be getting it."

"Waldorf," he said with condescending amusement, his hand creeping too far up her bare thigh. "I think you forgot something."

Blair bit back a moan as his wicked fingers took advantage of her.

"You're not getting out of this," he rasped huskily into her ear. "I knew it. I knew this was how it had to be between us. I knew it couldn't end just like that. I knew that it could only get better once I screwed you again."

Blair's hands met his shoulders with a furious shove and she was on her feet again. For a halting moment, he thought he saw it. He thought he saw some sort of betrayal at his words. But this wasn't anything but just sex to her. It had to be. So why should it be any different for him?

But he knew that it was. Even if he couldn't admit it to himself.

"Don't act so high and mighty, lover," Chuck said in that relaxed tone that always followed their dalliances into the night and made her quiver. "I know you."

Chuck didn't have to get from the ground that he found so comfortable to make her feel anything but.

"I know you better than anyone," he remarked, "and you know it. You know that I know how to make you squirm with a simple look. You and I are the same. And that will never change."

"You think last night mattered?" Blair sneered cruelly. "You were just there."

"I was just there," he repeated. "You are so convinced in your denial. I was there because there was no other way that this could go. You don't let them do the things I do to you. You don't let them make you scream. No one can do the things I do to you. That's why last night happened."

She watched in dismay as he finally made it to his feet in his fit of anger, grabbing his pants to sheath himself in accompanied by his wrath.

"You think last night was the same as any other?" Chuck asked. "It wasn't. You let me touch you. You practically begged me. You climbed on that piano yourself. You can't deny that things changed last night. They did."

"You're the one who just wanted to screw me one last time."

"It wasn't just one," he reminded her malevolently. "Just try to deny it. Tell me that you've had better. Just try."

Her face faltered and his dark laughter ricocheted off her walls.

"You should do something about those ego-maniacal tendencies," Blair seethed. "It's not nearly as becoming as you think it is."

"No," he agreed, "but you're the one who won't let me go. I may be unable to resist you but you're the one who's supposed to be the Ice Queen. What's your excuse? No one has ever got you as hot as me. And no one ever will. I may be a boozing, lecherous debaucher, but you're the one who seeks it out. You pretend to be pristine and virginal on the outside but I know who you are. On the inside, you're just like me. And I love being inside _you_."

His arm had slung around her neck, bringing her against his very bare chest. She braced herself against him, feeling so vulnerable as his natural musk surrounded her. At their proximity she could see the slight abrasions on his chest and could only imagine what his back looked like due to her nails the heels of her spiky shoes that she had forgotten to take off.

The first time.

"If you won't leave," Blair said quietly. "I will. I have class anyway."

"On a Sunday?" Chuck asked, seeing right through her. "I doubt you would go to class in a evening gown that has my stains all over it anyway."

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Blair asked, attempting to a different tactic.

"Me?" he asked. "Where would I have to be? I have no ambition except getting you into bed."

His eyes raked over her disheveled form.

"Not that we even made it there."

"And we never will."

"I'm looking forward to the exertion of breaking down your defenses to get into that bed I've missed so much," he responded easily. "That was always the exciting thing about you. You never gave up easily. Though you gave it up pretty easily last night. Absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"If you tell anyone what happened last night," Blair vowed, "I will do everything in my power to discredit it."

"That might be sort of hard," Chuck said, reaching into his pocket, retrieving exactly what she couldn't find that morning. "Not when I have this as evidence."

Blair didn't bother retrieving her own underwear before kicking him savagely in the shin.

"Be seeing you, lover," Chuck said after her as she left him in her angry wake, fleeing up the stairs without bothering to fetch her shoes.

* * *

It was strange. It wasn't like he was worried or anything. He was a guy and Chuck had the tendency to disappear for a few days. But ever since that catastrophe with Juliet, Nate needed something to focus on. Dan was cool to forget about the Upper East Side but Chuck was Chuck. And right now, Chuck looked like he had just been through a wind tunnel.

"Hey," Nate said after the sound of the elevator had alerted him of the presence of his best friend. Chuck looked around the furnishings of his penthouse, looking more dazed than Nate thought he had the capacity for.

The suit that he had been wearing the previous night hung off of him at odd angles. His shirt was untucked from his pants, his tie was nowhere to be seen, and his hair was in such a state of disarray Nate could hardly recognize him.

"You usually bring your conquests home with you," Nate noted. Chuck sauntered casually through the foyer, still looking around quizzically. "You okay, man? Or was it just a heavy night at _Victrola _after Blair kicked you out?"

Chuck's eyes finally snapped to attention and Nate new exactly what word made the focus sharper.

"Blair," Nate suggested again. "You know about last night. I know what that treaty meant to you. But if you actually-"

It was the first laugh he had heard from Chuck in a long while.

"That treaty is the last thing on my mind, Nathaniel," Chuck said with a lascivious smirk, making Nate sure there was some inside joke he was missing out on.

"You know how Blair gets," Nate said. "Eventually the two of you will be back to how you were before."

"In what way?" Chuck said suggestively. "That mishap with the treaty, actually, was one of the best things that could have happened to me."

"In what way?" Nate asked in confusion.

"I'm going to head to bed," Chuck answered evasively. "I had a long night."

Nate knew as he watched Chuck slide the doors of his bedroom closed behind him. Those answers were exactly the sort Nate would get after Blair had broken up with him the first time. That attention every time her name was mention was exactly the way Chuck acted before their Cotillion so many years ago.

Nate just hoped everyone was right and that his instincts weren't that sharp.

* * *

He didn't look like himself. That much he was sure of as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. At least he didn't look like the self that he had come back from the summer as. But for the first time in six months, he had never felt more himself than ever. And he knew exactly who to attribute that to.

Blair Cornelia Waldorf.

This was it. This was him, he was sure of it. Before her, his life was just a wasteland or bottomless drinks, easy girls, and his father's apathy. And then there was her. Then he became who he was truly meant to be.

When she went away, he was nothing. His life was an abyss of alcohol and women without faces. He found himself wandering around and wondering how he got to be in Prague's red light district. He wasn't himself. He was this fake person who smiled too much and pretended that half of his soul hadn't left him.

Things were different now. Now he knew it. Now he knew what it was like to be Chuck Bass again. Because as he looked in the mirror, it never felt more right. His eyes were bloodshot and he knew he smelled of _Cacharel Promesse _that coated no other woman but his.

Things were different because now he knew. Now he knew that she was just as lost as he was. She felt empty inside because when he filled that void, her voice crested and he never felt more complete.

There was one thing that he knew without a doubt. Last night would not be the last time.

Chuck stepped away and walked towards his bed. He leaned against the back wall in exhaustion, sliding to the floor. He reached behind his bed to retrieve a perfectly rolled joint. Smoke filled his lungs gloriously as he held it in before exhaling with relief. He closed his eyes, feeling familiar contentment that this was exactly where he was meant to be.

He remembered a time where he had to sneak into his own sister's shower to mask the effects of toking up. Things had changed so wildly and yet they were the same. They were the same because finally, he had something to live for again.

Chuck traced his hand over the ornate carving attached to his bed. Something that he had not dared to look upon since his not so triumphant return. Without thinking, he opened the drawer beneath his bed only to be assaulted with perfect memories that he had commanded himself to keep locked away, for fear of that same dark place he had reached that night he fell into a maelstrom he could only define as hell.

He removed the lacy undergarment that was still in his front pocket like a pocket square to toss it on top of every single thing that reminded him of her. The first of which were thousands of candid pictures that had accumulated over the past year. He removed the one from the top, relieved that his fear of further heartbreak had not come to pass.

Taken more than a year ago, Chuck couldn't remember how it had landed among his possessions despite the fact that he was half of the whole in it. He remembered the ecstatic pleasure he had felt that night at Lily and Rufus' wedding. Things had come so far since then now that he was barely allowed in his own stepmother's penthouse.

But there she was in the glossy photo, her arms wrapped around his neck in an intimate dance like only they could perform in a loft in Brooklyn. He had heard awkwardly constructed vows but couldn't help but look to his side at the brunette that he was finally allowed to call his. To his astonishment, she had been looking right back and it was at the moment that he knew without a doubt.

One day, he would make her his wife.

He laid the photograph gently back on the pile, knowing that wasn't exactly what he had opened this drawer for. He knew it was settled at the bottom where it could only only be found if someone knew exactly where to look.

Only Chuck did.

He reached down, feeling its velvet exterior, his fingers wrapping around it. He pulled his hand out, letting the smallest of boxes rest in the palm of his hand. He closed his eyes and felt his fingers work like second nature to open it.

He couldn't look. He didn't want to look. It was so acutely painful and so tragically beautiful that he didn't want to look. Because even now, it seemed like something he could never obtain.

He opened his eyes to see the perfect eight-karat diamond settled in silk. He knew the engraving by heart and the perfect date, _11/07/07, _when he had first fallen in love with her. He could still remember every minute detail that she had given him when they were together.

This box was better with the rest of those possessions that would never see the light of day again. They were better off forgotten.

Or at least they had been. Because last night changed things. Last night gave him something he was never meant to have.

Hope.

Chuck shoved the drawer closed before dizzily getting to his feet. He knew thoughts like those were toxic at this point. She was convinced that the previous night was a one-time mistake that would never be happening again.

He was going to persuade her differently. Because if there was one thing that Chuck Bass was good at, it was making Blair Waldorf's inhibitions run free.

Chuck stalked over to his closet. He opened the doors, walking past the lining of designer suits to reach the one part of the walk in closet that no one had reached. It was a place that Chuck hadn't let himself by and certainly no one but him knew of its existence.

He stopped before the garments, almost afraid to reach out and touch them like he used to when they donned that certain other half of his. There weren't many. She had taken most of them back after those fleeting words and her fading footsteps.

_Goodbye, Chuck._

She had so many dresses certainly she wouldn't miss these five that still hung at the back of his closet. Almost as though she had just gone on a vacation or a business trip and she would come back to live with him once again.

Chuck ran his fingertips over the expensive silk, glorying in the feel of them again without her rebuff. The most expensive silk that old money could buy. The most high class perfection because that's what she was. Nothing could exceed Blair Waldorf.

He knew this was wrong. Almost as though he were invading her. But as he buried his nose into the fabric and let her complete essence surround him, he could forget that she still hated him. At least for a moment.

_He can hear her laughing again. It iss something that he can't remember being blessed with for so long. Her dark tresses flow down her shoulders and he is whole again. Her lips are hot on his and he can breathe again. The world could collapses around them and he doesn't know because she is sighing his name without any sort of resentment or discontent._

_His heart is caught in his throat and his breathing is unpracticed and uneven only in the way that it is when he's buried deep inside of her like this. They scratch and bite and bleed on each other and they are connected again._

_"Chuck." _

_Her voice is distant and beautiful and he wants her to murmur it, sigh it, scream it for the rest of their lives._

_A bullet embedded in his flesh was nothing. It was nothing because he was back with her again. Not even death could stop him from coming back for her._

_"Did it hurt?"_

_"I've had worse."_

_"Have you?"_

_"I lost you, haven't I?"_

_"You're not really telling me that was worse."_

_"Nothing could compare to the pain of that. Not even a bullet."_

_"Stop talking like that."_

_"Why?"_

_"Because we hate each other."_

_More kisses. More scratches. More wounds. But he's in her again. Where he's meant to be._

_"This is right."_

_"Stop talking like that."_

_"Why?"_

_"Because we hate each other."_

_He never says it. He never says that thing that is at the back of his throat because he feels pressure and he is spewing all over her every sweet feeling and sordid pleasure._

_All he ever can say is the one syllable that is her name._

_And his own name is the last thing that echoes in his ears before a sharp pain is delivered to his chest._

Chuck sat up with a start and knew he wasn't dreaming any longer. For a moment, he was sure that he was because of the darkly ethereal woman standing before him. But he knew he wasn't dreaming.

He could smell her again.

* * *

Blair was relieved that when she walked into the penthouse that still held so much weight for her, that Nate was nowhere to be seen. She attempted to walk quietly but her expensive heels clicked efficiently on the tiled floor, making her wince. Still, Nathaniel did not make himself known so she continued towards the familiar double doors.

He was sleeping.

Typical.

His breathing was deep and even as his bare chest rose and fell. She dimly wondered where all of his clothes went when a nasty voice in her head replied _on the floor of your bedroom_.

"Chuck," Blair said, trying to silence her inner monologue. His eyelids fluttered and she knew that he was dreaming. He tossed slightly and his sheets dipped lower so that she was keenly aware that he was wearing no clothes.

At all.

_"Charles Bass."_

She attempted to make her voice get louder but even at his full name, her voice was still a deathly whisper. She started forward, not sure how to wake him without touching him.

Touching him, she knew, was terrible. Touching him would be the end of her because it always was. With a single touch he could command her very will and that was not something that she needed right now.

She could have left. She should of. But her eyes strayed past his hip again and her heart begged her to break.

She remembered the previous night. She remembered when she fingers pulled his shirt out of his pants and strayed past the scar that would never completely heal.

Blair found herself presently leaning over his immobile body and she knew that she was past the point of no return. She had passed it on the night of November 7th, 2007, she had passed it as he thrust her on top of her mother's piano, and she was passing it again now as her fingers lightly caressed his ugly scar that only made him-if impossibly-ever more beautiful.

She wrenched her hand away like she had pressed them on a hot stove as a single syllable escaped his lips.

"_Blair_."

"Wake _up_, Chuck," Blair said furiously, smacking him hard on the chest. She had been standing too close to him because he awoke with a start, sitting up suddenly in bed.

His eyes darkened with annoyance at first before he took in her appearance. She hated that sly smirk that crossed his features, always making her feel naked in his presence.

Not that she didn't literally know what that was like, considering what happened last night on her mother's piano.

"Hello, lover," he said with warm seduction. "Were you missing your La Perlas already?"

"Do you sleep through anything?" Blair asked, ignoring his question. "I was yelling."

"Well I certainly know what that sounds like," Chuck said, shifting comfortably, forcing her to look away. "And can you really blame me? Last night wore me out."

"And here I thought you had your self proclaimed stamina," Blair sneered.

"You are always the exception, my love."

"I didn't see Nate here," Blair said quickly, drawing away from his propensity to pull her in.

"Why?" Chuck asked suspiciously, hating even after two years and one night alone with her, that green monster still snarled threateningly within him for the blue-eyed boy's head.

"You didn't tell him anything, did you?" Blair commanded. He felt his monster recede, but he knew it was never for long.

"No, I didn't," Chuck answered. "I want to keep this little secret to myself for now."

"For now?" Blair demanded. "You aren't telling anyone ever."

"Well it won't be some sort of surprise scandal, Waldorf," Chuck answered. "Everyone saw this coming."

"Oh did they?" Blair asked. "I didn't."

"Didn't you?" Chuck asked. "You weren't exactly pulling me away when I grabbed you."

"That isn't why I'm here," Blair finally said.

"Isn't it?" he smirked.

"Have you seen Serena?"

"Serena?" Chuck asked dully. "That's why you're here?"

"I'm worried about her."

"You could have come up with a better excuse if you wanted to see me. Not that I'm complaining," Chuck said, rising from bed unabashedly. She averted her eyes to his amusement as he snorted. "Like you're so virginal."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

He could stoke her fire like no one else and it bothered her.

"I know I'm not a good person," Chuck snorted. "But neither are you, princess. I may be well versed in the world of depravity but you can do things to me that no one has even dared to try. And it comes second nature to you."

"Serena is getting in over her head again," Blair said, ignoring his comments. "An affair with a teacher is too far, even for her. I came here for my best friend."

"Is that the only reason?"

His voice was dark and reminiscent of backseats in limos and his compulsion to sabotage every relationship she had that wasn't with him.

"You think I'm just going to roll over now?" he asked with dark laughter that sent a thrill through her that she shouldn't be feeling. "You think I'm just going to pretend that what we have isn't anything anymore?"

"We don't _have_-"

"You're here for a reason," Chuck announced. "And it isn't for Serena. You hate to admit it, but you are just like me. You don't care about other people. You only care about yourself. And right now, yourself needs this."

"I used to care about you," Blair pointed out bluntly.

"And why do you think that is?" Chuck asked. "How many times do I have to tell you? We are exactly the same. Of course you care about me. Of course you love me. We're exactly the same. Who would you love more than yourself?"

"I used to love you more than my wellbeing," Blair answered. "And look where it got me."

"Right here," Chuck pointed out. "Where you're meant to be."

"Last night was the most disgusting, perverse, and depraved experience of my life," Blair said coldly. But he could still feel her heat calling for him.

"And it felt _good_ didn't it?" Chuck husked in her ear, sliding his hand up her thigh. "You liked it, didn't you?"

There was no lying to him. Lying to him when he knew the answer was counterproductive. Instead, she just shoved him and his hands away to his triumphant smirk.

"This is just the beginning," he told her. "You think that you can just get me out of your system like that. But I'm in your blood now, sweetheart. I'm embedded in your flesh. You're going to crave me just the way I crave you."

"I won't let you," Blair said, hating how her breath was short.

"Just try to stop inevitability."

* * *

"Where were you today?"

Serena's voice started Blair out of her reflection. She turned to see her best friend hesitating at the doorway.

"I thought you had class," Blair said distantly.

"It's a Sunday."

"Did you go to see him?"

Blair finally turned from the mirror. Serena's blue eyes were wide with her entrapment. Blair knew the answer to her question anyway.

"You know I don't approve," Blair sighed. "You don't have to hear a lecture."

"Thank you."

And yet Blair still felt a sort of resistance in her being. What Serena was doing wasn't right. Cavorting with a man years older than her in a way that could get her expelled. It wasn't right.

And she was Blair Waldorf.

"Although," Blair couldn't help but add, "you do deserve it from the amount of times that you've judged me."

"That was ages ago," Serena said quietly. "Does that still matter to you?"

_I don't know what I was thinking. Sleeping with him once, I understand, but twice?_

What, Blair, you slept with him?

_What happened to no judging?_

Yes. Suffice to say, it still mattered. It shouldn't, but it did. Because she was in far too much over her head.

"Do you love him?" Blair asked.

"What?" Serena asked laughingly. "Of course not."

"And you're just going to risk your reputation, your college career, for a fling?" Blair asked.

"Would it matter if I loved him?"

"I would take it into account."

"Why does it feel as though I'm on trial?" Serena asked.

"I don't know."

Because I'm on trial.

"Blair," Serena said softly. Vulnerability was flashing through her eyes and Blair relented. "The reason I went to go see him today was to tell him that we couldn't do what we had been doing. It's wrong."

"I think that's best," Blair answered. "Some things may feel good but it doesn't mean they're healthy for you."

"Right," Serena answered.

"I'm glad you came to this decision," Blair answered. "Even if you've never felt more complete with anyone else, or no one knows you better. This is the right choice. Even if it's like you're the same person."

"Blair," Serena said and Blair snapped out of her reverie. "Are we still talking about Colin?"

"Of course," Blair said. "Who else would we be talking about?"

"Last night," Serena said, "after your party, I went to see him."

"Well it doesn't matter now," Blair answered, "does it? You're done with him."

"Well, I came back pretty late," Serena answered. "But you weren't in your room when I went to bed."

Blair felt ill, remembering just how that piano dug deliciously into her back.

"I was cleaning up downstairs," Blair said. "You must have just missed me."

"Must have," Serena answered. "It's just that it was pretty dark down there. I didn't think anyone-"

"Dorota's about to do laundry," Blair announced in a quick change of subject. "You should probably gather your clothes."

"Right," Serena said. She looked around Blair's usually impeccable room to see a single red garment that she had been wearing the night before laying across the spotless floor. "Do you need me to take that-"

"No," Blair said quickly. "I've got it."

"Alright," Serena said reassuringly at Blair's harsh tone. She turned to go back to her room before stopping for a movement. "You know you're right. It's more healthy... giving up Colin."

Blair nodded absentmindedly.

"Just like it's better for you to give it up."

"Give up what?" Blair tested.

"Giving up..." Serena said, "scotch."

"Scotch," Blair repeated.

"Yeah," Serena said. "You know I can smell it from here."

"Right," Blair said, her eyes straying towards the red dress on the floor. "You're right. I am giving it up."

"I'm glad," Serena said. "I wouldn't want you to develop a problem or anything."

"Right."

It was as Serena turned that Blair could think of the only thing that was coming to mind.

Too late.

It was a few minutes after Serena had left that Blair found it in herself to pick up the dress from the floor. She suddenly felt exhausted as she climbed exhaustedly on top of the silk duvet, clutching her dress to her. The scent of scotch came off of it in waves and she closed her eyes against it, feeling that familiar emotion of heartbreak.

She knew what she had to do.

She had to give him up.


	3. As We Hurt Each Other Again

**A/N**: So not too sure about this chapter. It seems sort of rushed but idk. Tell me what you think.

**Summary**: He knew that his pride was what always got him in trouble. But seeing her like this turned him into the neurotically insecure sixteen year old that panted after his best friend's girl and he didn't want that. He didn't like the control she exerted over him and he had to get it back.

**Disclaimer**: Nothing is mine. Awesomely awesome beta **comewhatmay.x **contributed her awesome corrections as usual.

* * *

"What are you doing?"

On her knees before the couch, hands shoved beneath the cushions, Blair was aware of the compromising position she was in. Though it didn't even come close to other ones she had been caught in, she knew that Serena had reason to raise her fair eyebrows at her.

"Nothing," Blair said quickly, sitting back on her heels. "I was just..."

"Looking for your stilettos?" Serena asked. "I think I saw them behind the piano."

"Right," Blair replied uneasily. She should have remembered exactly where her shoes had gone, and not have suspected that they be hiding in her couch.

"Blair-" Serena began with a deep breath.

"I'm handling it," Blair assured her.

"You're handling it," Serena repeated. "Handling what, exactly?"

"Don't worry about it, Serena," Blair said, rising to her feet.

"Just be careful," Serena advised. "You know how addictions work. Anything that could even remind you of what you're tempted with could lead you astray."

"Who said I had an addiction?" Blair couldn't help but demand defensively.

"Why are you shoes behind the piano, again?" Serena asked sharply. Blair narrowed her eyes but knew that her best friend had inexplicably won this round.

"And you?" Blair asked. "Have you seen Colin lately?"

"Only in the mandatory classes I attend," Serena answered cleverly. "But I'm not sure I can say the same for you."

"Like you said," Blair answered. "They're mandatory."

"Not the classes," Serena said. "What you are supposed to be avoiding."

"I haven't touched the stuff."

"Just because you haven't touched it," Serena said, obviously uncomfortable with Blair's continued metaphor, "doesn't mean that it won't hop into its black limousine and stalk you for eighteen blocks."

"And you would know this, how?" Blair asked.

"History," Serena answered. "Because when it comes to him, you know that it's bound to repeat itself."

"Are we talking about you again?" Blair asked. "Because I don't remember when you were with Colin before."

"You know who I'm talking about, Blair."

"Thanks for finding my shoes for me," Blair finished coldly. Serena sighed but nodded, leaving Blair alone in the room.

Begrudgingly, Blair turned toward the corner of the room, rounding the piano to find her heels exactly where she had left them. She scowled, hating the enemy that the seductive shoes represented. She went to pick them up by the straps when she hesitated.

Heels in hand, she stared at the metal object that had fallen to the floor, glinting at her maliciously. Again, she bent down, picking up the shining silver object. Cool to the touch she flicked open the silver lighter contemplatively, tracing its monogrammed surface. Two initials were ingrained into its surface.

_CB._

* * *

"Find your shoes?"

Blair walked into the kitchen, slipping the lighter into the front pocket of her skinny jeans. For a moment, she had to do a double take as she watched Serena at the stove.

"Are you cooking?" Blair couldn't help but ask incredulously. Serena poked experimentally at what Blair had to assume was her attempt at pancakes in the skillet.

"Trying."

"You know I have a maid for a reason," Blair pointed out.

"Really?" Serena asked. "I thought it was for housekeeping. Maybe she could have found your shoes."

"Serena," Blair snapped. "Whatever you're trying to insinuate-"

"I'm not," Serena promised. "I just want to make sure that you know what you're doing."

"Always," Blair assured her.

"If you say so."

"Spare me the judgmental tone, Serena," Blair found herself saying weakly. "And if I recall, you are the farthest person who has cause for it."

"But every day I take steps to try to change."

"Well that's fine for you," Blair answered, "but I can't. I can't change what I am and this... thing. So just drop it."

"Fine," Serena answered. She picked up the skillet and dropped it in the sink. "These were doomed before they were started anyway."

"Fine," Blair replied. Serena dried her hands off on a towel and looked at her expectantly. "What?"

"You look nice today."

"Thanks," Blair answered slowly, not liking her tone.

"I mean you don't look like your usual appropriate self," Serena answered. "You're wearing jeans."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" Blair asked.

"You are going to class today, right?" Serena asked.

"Of course."

"Well I was heading out now if you wanted to share a cab," Serena offered.

"No thanks," Blair answered. "I have some things to do here first before I go anyway."

"If you're sure."

"I'm sure," Blair answered with a tight smile. She knew exactly how much of that sentence was a lie—(all of it)—but when the elevator sounded behind Serena, she couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. She was just glad to be alone in the house, if only for a moment. She would eventually head out for class but for now she just wanted a moment where she wasn't being judged.

At the sink she sprayed the skillet that Serena had left, scrubbing it with vivacity that only frustration of the Bass kind could incur in her. The elevator sounded again and Blair closed her eyes. She wasn't ready for another one of Serena's lectures as of yet or worse, having a leggy blonde being her own personal escort to school.

"Did you forget something?" Blair asked without turning around, drying her own hands with a dishtowel.

She should have known.

As soon as she felt fingers at the base of her skull, she knew exactly who it was.

And it sure as he wasn't Serena.

His hands pulled her dark hair over her shoulder as his lips caressed the nape of her neck.

"Just one thing," Chuck breathed huskily into her ear. Blair spun around, ready to berate him for his intrusion. Quick as lightning, he was ready for her reaction, catching her wrists in his hand with a sly smirk.

"Not so fast, sweetheart," Chuck said, restraining her hands tightly. "I haven't seen you creep into my bedroom while I was peacefully slumbering with no clothes on for a couple of days now. Was it something I said?"

"Let go of me," Blair said as steadily as she could. Chuck looked for a moment like he would actually protest, but to her surprise, he did as she was asked. His fingers slackened on her wrists, but slid down her arms and sides, to grip her hips affectionately.

"I miss you, lover" Chuck said, his face closer to hers than she deemed appropriate.

"You can't call me that anymore, Chuck," Blair said quietly, hating the melancholy that laced her voice.

"Why not?" he questioned. "It's what you are. Literally. Judging by the claw marks on my back, I'm positive that wasn't just another one of my feverish sex fantasies that always seem to feature you."

"Should I be flattered?" Blair asked dryly. "I thought I made it perfectly clear that we weren't to see each other again."

"You say that," Chuck drawled, "but somehow you always seem to end up on your back with my head between your thighs."

His hand was quick again as she attempted to smack him.

"None of that, kitten," he reprimanded.

"Stop."

"What?" he asked. "Are all affectionate names banned now? That just seems unfair."

"Everything is banned, Chuck," Blair said. "You can't be here. Stop trying to see me."

"Sure I can," he answered. "I waited until Serena left. I'm assuming that's what's making you insecure about our very recent relations. Once again the Virgin Mary proves to be hypocritical and judging us when she has no right to."

"There is no us," Blair said. "And there never will be again."

"Exaggeration," Chuck replied curtly. "I understand if you're reluctant to label us anything as of now. You want to take it slow. I get it."

"You don't get anything," Blair answered, hating the thrill she got from his lazy tone. "You can't just show up every time you get bored of your whores."

"Don't be crude, darling," he leered.

"I learned from the best," Blair retorted. His grip on her tightened and she closed her eyes as his left hand slid up her side to stroke the hair framing her face.

"My sweet, selfish vixen," he said affectionately. "What makes you think I came here only for you?"

His hand suddenly turned hard at the exact place that was detrimental for her. Instinctively, her hand shot out, reaching for anything that could defend her against his pleasurable ministrations. Her fingers curled around the shaft of the spatula on the counter as she raised her fist to berate him with it. Catching her wrist calmly, he laughed sardonically.

"Prove it," Blair scowled bitterly. She hated the admiration burning in his eyes.

"You really are fascinating," he said. "You are the only woman I have ever met that is as self absorbed as I am."

"How fortunate for me."

"My lighter."

"What?" Blair asked, thrown off guard. He was focused on teasing her dark tresses before answering.

"I lost my lighter," he finally answered. "You know I can't smoke my hash without it. The only time that I could recollect that I was exerting myself enough for it to fall out of my pocket was the last time I was here."

"You don't exert yourself when you're with the room service twins?" Blair sneered. "Flattering."

"You know there's only you," he said hotly into her ear.

"Well I don't have it," Blair answered without breaking eye contact. He smirked, looking slyly at her lips.

"You look nice today, beautiful," he finally spoke up, his dark eyes back to scanning her lewdly. His hand traveled down the expanse of her stomach as she attempted to to stifle her gasp. The corners of his mouth just twitched smugly. "I can't remember the last time I found you in jeans."

His fingers played with the button that led to her zipper and to her horror and disgust, she was letting him.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Blair jumped, shoving Chuck quickly away to see Dan Humphrey hesitating awkwardly in the doorway.

"Yes," Chuck practically snarled, as Blair chirped an even quicker, "No."

"Right," Dan answered uncomfortably. "I was looking for-"

"Right this way," Blair said helpfully, shrugging off Chuck's searching hands to take Dan by the arm and leading him into the living room.

"Serena already went to school," Blair said. "You just missed her."

"Thanks."

Blair was very aware of how he was avoiding her eyes.

"You didn't see anything in there," Blair said. It wasn't a question.

"Nothing," Dan promised.

"Good."

Dan studied her quietly for a moment, silence stretching between them awkwardly. Blair was highly aware of the fact that Chuck was most likely still in the kitchen even though she was sure that was as much of a dismissal as any.

"You can go now," Blair smiled with her misleading coolness. Dan just nodded curtly, knowing that there was no sense in actually staying behind. He turned to press the button for the elevator when it chimed before he even had the chance. He stepped back in surprise.

"Anne," Blair said in astonishment as the mother of her former boyfriend stepped lightly out of the elevator.

* * *

"You were aware that I was stopping by," Anne remarked in the foyer.

"Of course," Blair responded. "Serena left early for school and Dan was just looking for her."

Anne's eyes strayed to the doors of the elevator where Dan had just vacated.

"It seems a little early in the morning for a social call," Anne said primly. Blair blanched, understanding that one ill word from Anne and her future could be tarnished. "I just want to make sure that you are ready for the responsibility of being a part of the Girls Inc. Foundation."

"Of course," Blair found herself saying again, attempting to portray that this was the utmost importance to her.

"You were of course the first person I thought of to take over as the face when I step down," Anne answered, approaching the living area. "I just want to make sure-"

"Don't worry," Blair assured her. "There won't be any more interruptions-"

Blair felt her voice die at the back of her throat as she saw the exact person that shouldn't be sitting on her chaise.

Chuck dragged his eyes to her form, slouched in the seat, his legs spread in the laziest stance.

"Anne," Chuck greeted coolly. He turned his attention back to Blair immediately. "So are we going to continue this conversation or not?"

"Chuck," Blair said grimly. "Anne is here for professional reasons."

This obviously did not seem to touch Chuck at all as he stared at her blankly.

"Blair," Anne said quietly. "If your boyfriend and you need to-"

"Boyfriend," Blair said a little more loudly than was appropriate. "You must know that Chuck is the complete opposite from my boyfriend."

"I may have heard that through the grapevine," Anne answered. Chuck's eyes were murky with what Blair could only appropriate with insult but still didn't answer.

"Anne was here so we could talk about my opportunity at the position at Girls Inc.," Blair said tersely in Chuck's direction. If there was one thing that she and Chuck had done well with, it was communicating aptly through purely nonverbal cues. Understanding lit Chuck's eyes, though it was obvious he wasn't pleased with it.

"Of course," Chuck rose politely. "I suppose I'll just stop by another time."

Chuck brushed past her and nausea spread through Blair at Anne's emotionless face as they took a seat.

"Blair," Anne started as further dread overcame Blair. "You know that despite the fact that you and Nathaniel couldn't work things out, I hold the highest respect for you. You are the prime candidate for a position at Girl's Inc."

"Thank you," Blair said with relief.

"However," Anne said. "You have to understand that your past relationships do cause us at the foundation concern."

"I assume you aren't referring to Nate," Blair said darkly.

"We are willing to overlook your past mistakes," Anne said. "But any further contact with Charles could prove detrimental to your image."

"I understand," Blair said. "I know what it looks like, him being here. But honestly, that's the furthest from the truth. Of course I must interact with him in social situations, but we are the furthest from acquaintances. We hardly have any contact at all."

"I hope you prove that to be true," Anne answered. "Because even in social situations, contact with such debauchery will force us to make an alternative decision regarding your future."

"I understand," Blair repeated as steadily as she could, feeling foreboding curl through her stomach.

* * *

The sound of the elevator faded with Anne's departure as Blair stood in the foyer, staring at the closing metallic doors.

"What the hell was that?"

His voice broke through the dead silence. Blair whirled around to see Chuck's eyes clouded with fury.

"I thought I made it perfectly clear that I wanted you gone," Blair seethed. She knew that he didn't deserve her wrath. Not really. Not when she knew that she was just fooling herself with thinking that this thing between them was just temporary. But all of her conflicting emotions were building up inside of her and she knew that the easiest thing to do was just make him leave and continue her life without him.

But in her heart, she knew that would be impossible. Be it after he left, the next day, or the days that continued after, there would always be that part of her missing him and nothing could stop it.

"So that's it, then?" Chuck asked, his voice coarse with outrage.

"Don't pretend that any of this was made to last," Blair said. "We had a night filled with hate sex. But that's all it was."

"You're just taking the easy way out," Chuck replied. "Like you always do. You feel vulnerable so you go back to your easily manipulated and thick ex-boyfriend."

"It's better than going back to my sordidly hedonist ex-boyfriend who will always end up disappointing me," Blair spat.

"Don't pretend like you're any different from me," he replied.

"Then I suggest the same to you," Blair answered, cutting off his train of thought. "If someone told you that being seen with me—the virginal society princess—would tarnish your bad reputation, you would drop me in a second. If it meant losing The Empire, you know you would."

"That's the difference, I suppose," he said. "That virginal society princess image you have is just that—an image. Because deep down you are the same sordidly hedonist person I am. You just don't let anyone see it."

"You act as though that's a bad thing," Blair said. "I'm sorry if I'm going to lengths to preserve my future. I'm sorry I'm leaving you behind."

She knew that the both of them were near their breaking point as his hand slammed above her head on the wall, his body pressed against her.

"Just _stop_-"

But he cut her off, forcing his hand down her jeans.

Her mouth opened in preparation for the jarring pleasure he always brought out of her. But she was disappointed when she realized his fingers were just digging around her front pocket. Her eyes fluttered open to witness him retrieving his silver lighter, holding it in front of her face coldly.

"Just getting what I came for, lover," he said bitterly. He shoved himself off of her, pressing the button of the elevator to leave her to herself. Only when the doors shut themselves securely behind him did she let herself break down in tears.

* * *

She was right. She was completely right. Slouched in the living area with minimal clothing hanging off of him, knocking back yet another scotch, he knew that she was right. If his advisors had come and said that Blair Waldorf was detrimental to his image, he knew he wouldn't be able to have her.

Not in public at least.

He knew that he would still do whatever was in his power to have her behind closed doors. He wouldn't be able to take her out like he wanted to or buy her shiny things like he wanted to, but he would still have her.

In every—and any—way that he wanted.

Attempting to lurch to his feet to reach the bar as he killed another tumbler, the room began to spin and he gripped the corner of the counter to keep his balance. He shook his head, clearing his mind of the spots that always accompanied his binge drinking.

Which usually followed whenever Blair would kick him out of her house. He reached for a decanter, about to pour it into his empty glass. Hesitating, he decided against it, instead tipping back the bottle itself to pour the burning liquid down his throat. He resisted the sputtering that the likes of Dan Humphrey would usually be resorted to.

Instead he just pulled the buttons of his shirt out, opening his torso to the air as the sweat of the alcohol slid from his pores. But turning back to the living area, he had to stop. He hesitated, knowing something was very different.

He could smell it on the air. No longer did the fumes of illegal substances and hard liquor permeate the air. He could now smell something sweet and seductive.

He always could tell the exact scent if Blair Waldorf.

"Blair," he breathed into the air, almost sure that this was just another hallucination due to his tendency to overindulge.

But it was then that he heard distinct heels clicking across the tile.

She wasn't a hallucination.

He could smell her.

"I told you to stop trying to see me," she said clearly. He snorted cruelly, quite prepared for a cold retort until he looked into her eyes.

Still dark and mesmerizing, but he saw something he hadn't seen in them since the night where her hair blended in with the top of her mother's piano. Her cold exterior was melting to reveal the fire below and he couldn't help but take a step forward to breathe her in.

"You're right."

"This must be the apocalypse," Chuck couldn't help but smirk. She smiled lightly but that melted away too.

"You were right," Blair said again. "I'm pretending every single second that I'm not with you."

She knew that his smugness was about to break free from his intoxicated exterior but she cut him off.

"And I have to keep pretending," Blair said, taking small steps towards him before continuing. "But when I'm with you I won't."

"When?" Chuck questioned.

"You won't be telling anyone."

"I do love it when you give me commands," he leered.

"Don't tell anyone."

Her lips scorched his and he let her rip off the rest of his shirt, shoving him against the back wall.

* * *

When Nate walked into the penthouse that night, he was surprised to see how dark it was. He knew that Chuck must have been home that night but the entire living area was vacant. He was distracted by the light underneath Chuck's door. Squinting, he saw dim shadows moving erratically through the thick panes of glass.

It was clear the Chuck wasn't alone before Nate stumbled. He looked at the ground to see that the coffee table was in the exact opposite position it was when he had left that morning for class. As a matter of fact, the entire room looked as it had when Nate had reigned over it last summer. Picking his way through the mess, Nate made his way to his best friend's door, knocking, sure that it would take a least a minute for Chuck to answer his call.

Nate waited but when Chuck finally slid the door open, he couldn't help but laugh. Chuck ran a hand through his bedraggled hair, hastily buckling his belt around the pants that Nate was sure he didn't have on two minutes previous.

"Hey," Nate said, smiling.

"May I help you with something, Nathaniel?" Chuck asked succinctly, looking over his shoulder. The sliding doors were only open enough for Chuck to fit his body through before shutting them behind him again.

"Sorry," Nate said. "I didn't know that you'd have company when I came home."

"Well now you do."

"The entire living room looks like a disaster area."

"There's a reason why maids were invented," Chuck pointed out.

"Right."

"Was that it?" Chuck asked. He looked conspicuously behind him again and suddenly Nate found something very suspicious about this whole situation.

"Have you seen Blair?"

"No."

His answer was curt but when it came to Chuck, Nate could never tell when he was hiding something from him.

"Serena said that right after class she left," Nate replied. "She looked really upset about something."

"Well," Chuck said, a suggestive smirk crossing his face. "I'm sure she vented her frustrations somewhere. You know Blair."

"Yeah."

"Well if that's it," Chuck said, not waiting for a response from Nate. As the doors closed in front of his face, Nate couldn't help but feel as though Chuck knew Blair a lot more than anyone else.

* * *

"That was close."

Chuck couldn't look at her. Looking at her was dangerous. Looking at her would be the end of him. Instead he returned to his tumbler, knocking back a scorching mouthful.

"He didn't know I was here."

Her voice was a siren's song, calling him back and he couldn't help but stare at the almost transparent sheet draped over her perfect form.

This woman was too dangerous.

"For now."

"What are you doing?"

Avoiding her eyes obviously wasn't working because he was being drawn back to her, walking back to the bed where her soft skin was taunting him.

"What?" Chuck asked, dragging his gaze back to her eyes.

"You're acting like you don't want me here," Blair accused. "And you were acting the exact opposite this morning, if I recall."

"Then what happened?" Chuck asked. "Anne came over and forbade you to see me."

"She doesn't know if we're not in public," Blair pointed out.

"And that's the only reason that you're here," Chuck said.

"You seemed perfectly fine with sneaking around with me the first time," Blair snapped.

"Yes," Chuck admitted. "But you're not dating Nate anymore and you and I both know that I don't care about anyone else. I don't care if society sees us. That's the difference. The fact is, the public likes hedonists. But what they like even more would be a hedonist with a heart."

"What are you saying?" Blair asked.

"I'm saying you need to leave."

"Right," Blair sneered. "Because I'm just like the rest to you. I gave you what you wanted and now you're just going to move on to someone else."

"Me?" Chuck snapped back. "Don't act as though you're the one who's being used here. Whenever there's an itch you can't scratch you drape yourself hot and bothered all over me until it's time for you to leave again. Well I can't do it. I can't watch you keep walking away from me with the chance that I'll never have you in that way again. I won't do it."

Her dark eyes were cold and accusing and he knew the last thing that was safe was spouting his feelings towards her. She was just as likely to stomp all over his heart, as she was to make him groan out in ecstasy.

Instead, she let his sheets that would now smell like her forever slide off of her as she stepped down from the bed. He couldn't help but stare as she stepped into her black lace, covering every part of her that he wanted to taste again.

He knew that his pride was what always got him in trouble. But seeing her like this turned him into the neurotically insecure sixteen year old that panted after his best friend's girl and he didn't want that. He didn't like the control she exerted over him and he had to get it back.

"Now is the last time to be developing some self-control, don't you think, Bass?" she asked coolly.

She stepped around him and he felt her kill him once more, hating how his rejection meant nothing to her.

* * *

It was uncanny. The simple way that a mere breath from him could make her break. Blair stared at herself in her mirror again, finding that it was always him that made her retrospective about herself. That a sneer from him made tracks of tears dry on her face.

"Hey."

Blair's eyes flicked to her doorway to see Serena hesitating in it.

"Hey," Blair whispered, her voice hoarse from exactly what she could never admit she was doing.

"When did you get home?"

"A couple hours ago."

"Are you alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Serena sighed, walking behind Blair so their eyes met in the mirror. Serena combed her fingers through Blair's long locks. Blair attempted to flick away the tears that gathered at her eyes discreetly.

Then again, Serena was her best friend.

"Where'd you go?"

"I don't know," Blair remarked in a hushed voice.

Because she truly didn't. She truly could never understand where she went whenever she was with him. She couldn't understand who she became when she was with him. She didn't understand her actions or the things he made her do. She was a completely different person when she was with him. But the thing was, she was only herself when she was with him.

"I thought I was strong enough," Blair said. "I thought I could do it."

"Relapse is part of recovery."

There were thousands of subjects they could be talking about but in a way, it just didn't matter.

"Sometimes I don't want to recover," Blair said.

"Me neither."


	4. As the Elevator Doors Close Behind Us

**A/N**: This is my shortest chapter for this fic, but an important one. Only Chuck and Blair are featured but the whole situation between them needs to be...situated. So here we go. Hopefully this makes everyone feel better after no CB interaction tonight.

**Summary**: He knew she had ambition. He couldn't love her this much if she wasn't exactly like him. But he couldn't help it. He knew it was hypocritical. He knew he was a terrible person for wanting her to sacrifice her future for him when he couldn't do the same.

**Disclaimer**: None is mine, even the SL which is losely based on season 6 of Buffy (though obviously no vampires.) Beta-ed by the awesome **comewhatmay.x**.

* * *

He had fully intended to stay away. He didn't need this. He didn't need _her_.

But standing outside of the event that the Girls' Inc. Foundation was holding, he knew that couldn't be farther from the truth. Because the truth was, she had hurt him. In the way that no woman on the face of the earth could ever even attempt to do.

She had chosen some female empowerment group over him. He wanted to be enough for her. He knew she had ambition. He couldn't love her this much if she wasn't exactly like him. But he couldn't help it. He knew it was hypocritical. He knew he was a terrible person for wanting her to sacrifice her future for him when he couldn't do the same.

He was just weak. He just couldn't do this again. He wanted to have it all.

She wouldn't let him.

In that instant, he knew that she knew he would be here. She was a spiteful bitch, throwing everything in her arsenal against him.

But it wasn't like he wouldn't do the same.

He recognized that dress, of course. It was the dress that he had hiked around her hips, perched on top of a piano.

He recognized that necklace. It was the one he had used to barter for her affections, just so she would look at him again. The one she wore while breaking his heart on a dance floor at a Debutante Ball and while finally letting him wrap his arms around her in a midst of snowflakes before his life fell apart.

And that hair. That hair done up in an elegant twist, just like she had done in his stepsister's room, surrounded by candles and wearing a flimsy slip that came off so easily, where he almost could have had her.

She was cruel and vindictive and he couldn't stay away from her any longer.

"Now don't you look...decadent."

He watched her spine go rigid before she turned in the ballroom, only to grace him with a scathing glance.

"What are you doing here?"

"Are you really that surprised?" Chuck asked. "It is my hotel. As much as Anne denounces my way of life, she knows how successful my empire is."

"Or an attempt at one," Blair retorts. "You have one hotel."

"And one burlesque club," he reminded her. "Which I'm sure you recall taking your clothes off at."

"Ancient history, Bass."

"Is it?" Chuck asked doubtfully. "I seem to recall you sneaking into my humble abode some weeks ago-"

"After which you treated me like one of your whores and dismissed me," Blair seethed. Chuck stared after her as she took her leave of him, finally understanding his mistake. He hated that she thought that was what it was. She thought that she was just another conquest to him, when in fact he just hated being vulnerable around her.

It was a compliment on her part, rather than an insult. And he hated her for it. He hated this whole situation. He hated the power she had over him and how he still couldn't do anything right.

So he followed her.

It was the only solution.

"We need to talk."

But she wasn't hearing it.

"You seemed to have said all you needed to last time we spoke."

"To be fair," Chuck answered, "there wasn't a lot of talking going on then."

"Haven't you humiliated me enough?" Blair asked. "You got what you wanted."

"And so have you, apparently," Chuck said scornfully. "I see that the foundation took you back after you made it clear you would have nothing to do with me."

"Which, incidentally," Blair returned, "happened right after I was used like a prized horse. Rode hard and put away wet, if I recall correctly?"

That one stung more than he would have liked to admit, but he wasn't letting this go that way again. He wouldn't watch her walk out of a bar as his heart splintered on more than one occasion.

"And you were completely innocent, I presume?" Chuck asked. "You wanted to keep me a secret so you could further yourself in the world."

"You would have done the same," Blair said.

"That's not an excuse," he answered. "I won't be treated like someone's mistress."

"Now you know how it feels."

"I have never treated you like that," he responded.

"It doesn't matter," Blair said. "None of that matters. You made your feelings completely clear that night. This is what I have to do. I can't just be your mistress either."

"You don't have to be," he said. "We can both be in positions of power."

"I need this."

"This is really what you need? Serving society matrons who you have to hide your true self with?" Chuck asked. "You don't. You don't need them. You don't need anyone."

"I need you," Blair snapped and he knew it was just a crime of passion. She was frustrated with herself and he had never been more pleased with a slip of the tongue. "Don't you get it? You make me _pine_ for you and there is nothing more humiliating."

"You think I don't do the same for you?" Chuck asked, letting himself be honest, if only for this one moment of hope with her. "I had to try and force myself to not even be on your proximity and look where it's got me."

"That doesn't change anything," Blair said. "This isn't the first time that I've felt this way and you know it. I may not need them, but they can get me to where I need to be."

"So can I," Chuck suggested. "I can do anything for you. You can start your own foundation. I would give anything for you."

"That's worse," Blair said. "I would be indebted to you."

"You wouldn't," Chuck promised.

"I would get to the top because of you and I can't do that," Blair said. "I have to do this on my own."

"In case you haven't noticed," Chuck said. "You're not. Instead you'll be indebted to some society prudes. Tell me that's better."

"It is," Blair answered. "Because then I'll only be indebted to them and not to you."

Blair's fingers pressed the button for the elevator and he knew there was only one way he could stop her.

"You wore that dress tonight for me, didn't you?"

True to his prediction, Blair spun around, fury making her even more desirable.

"What?"

"Admit it," Chuck smirked, walking towards her as she stood frozen in her rage. "You think about me every waking moment. You think about me when you get dressed, on your way to school, when you're alone..."

"You would like to think that," Blair sneered. "Wouldn't you?"

"I don't have to think it," Chuck said. "I know it. Just like I know you wore that necklace and that dress for me. Just like I know you're probably wearing the same La Perlas you were wearing the last time I saw you."

Her mouth was slightly agape in disbelief at his audacity, but just at that moment, the elevator had arrived and he walked even closer to her, causing her to walk backward into it.

"Alone at last," he slurred sleazily.

Her hands gripped the front of his shirt, attempting to berate his attempts at seduction, but he got a hold of her petite frame so easily that he was able to overpower her.

"Your attempts at seduction are weak," Blair said coldly. But he knew her game. He knew it was simply an attempt to hurt him, but then again, he never lost.

"It's not an attempt, sweetheart," he crooned. "It's working."

"You think I'm just going to let you-"

Too late.

Chuck had pulled the emergency stop and had her wrists pinned with his hands.

"You're not going to let me do anything," he said. "You're going to join me whole-heartedly."

"And what would give you that impression?" Blair asked snidely.

"By the simple fact that you haven't slapped me yet," Chuck said. "Which, incidentally, wouldn't convince me either."

"Wouldn't it?"

"No," Chuck shrugged. "I just bring that out in you."

"Not for all the right reasons."

"I know you missed me," Chuck rasped seductively in her ear. "And I am fully intent on finding out if those are the same La Perlas or not."

"You won't get that far."

"Is that a challenge?"

"You pulled the Emergency Stop, Chuck," Blair said. "Someone's coming."

"No one is coming," he laughed. "This is my hotel."

"You threatened to send Serena to the airport Marriott for less."

"Serena isn't you," he said softly.

"Don't even try to manipulate me," Blair warned.

"Why?" he smirked. "Is it working?"

"I'm not one of your sluts who will suck you off, simply for the taste of being elite for a night."

"That wasn't an answer," Chuck reminded her.

"You can't win," Blair pointed out.

"Neither can you when you're out there with them," he said. He had freed her hands and for a frightening moment, he thought he truly deserved the slap that should be coming.

Instead, she grabbed his face, biting his lip hard as hers entangled with his. Her exhale turned into a moan as he pushed her against the wall.

"You know that those girls are nothing," he said, brushing his lips against her ear. "They don't even compare to you. I would chain you to my bed for eternity if it was socially acceptable."

Blair leaned her head against the back wall to look into his eyes, analyzing his every word.

"Your security team better not be coming," she warned as she pulled him again. Finally, in satisfaction, he groaned, hoisting her up against the back wall, shoving her skirt up.

"I knew it," he said with satisfaction, ripping at every article clothing that obscured her from him.

"Shut up," she commanded, ripping his own belt from its constraints.

"As my lady requests," he said hoarsely, relieved that the weeks without her had finally come to an end. Her grip on him tightened again and he knew that he had become dangerously close to a proclamation that neither of them could handle.

Wrapped so tightly and sweetly around each other in an elevator was one thing. It was what they had to do because those words were too dangerous now. Physical expression was the only way to be together because those words could only hurt them now.

He knew he would have to wait. He would wait with her in his bed, but only because what they were truly waiting for was the deliverance of a sparkling diamond.


	5. As We Come Undone

**A/N**: Sorry this took so long to get out, so I hope it's worth it.

**Summary**: There was a tremor in the room, but even at the sound of the door opening and closing, Chuck refused to look. He refused to be trapped by even a look from her for as long as he could. Because he knew the moment their eyes met, he was done for.

**Disclaimer**: Spoilers up to 4x07, after that it's all AU. Characters are GG of course, and thanks so much to **comewhatmay.x** who beta-ed something twice. Also thanks to **TheVeryLastValkyrie **who has been made aware I wrote this before I read the awesome Virtue Fell.

* * *

A single malt. The thrill of a take-down. At the moment, Chuck Bass was only trying to focus on the simple pleasures. It was easier that way. It was the way he had always done it, the only way he knew how to. Distracting himself from Blair Waldorf wasn't easy, but it was the only way. It was the only way to explain the faceless women and his unrelenting ambitious drive to continue his father's legacy, no matter what the cost.

Because if he hadn't, then all there would be to do was to think of her. And he couldn't do that. Not without his heart breaking.

So sitting in The Oak Room with his business partners, he was doing exactly what he was supposed to be doing. Working.

She just had to walk in at that exact second.

There was a tremor in the room, but even at the sound of the door opening and closing, Chuck refused to look. He refused to be trapped by even a look from her for as long as he could. Because he knew the moment their eyes met, he was done for.

"That is something, isn't it?"

Chuck fell for it. The business associate at his side had spoken up and Chuck followed the direction of his gaze.

Chuck had to admit, he didn't blame him. He didn't blame the man whose eyes were trained to the brunette who strode purposefully into the bar.

Chuck knew that she didn't see him. If she did, she would already by crowded by attractive Wallstreeters to purposely make him jealous.

Bitch.

Blairsmiled flirtatiously at the bartender, who served her usual gin martini.

Maybe she did know he was there.

The businessmen around him were all murmuring in agreement of the obviousness that a blind person could see. "She's cute."

"Cute," Chuck couldn't help but mutter beneath his breath. It was in vain because he felt eyes on him questioningly.

_Cute _didn't even begin to cover what Blair Waldorf was.

The way her cold exterior could just melt away when he slid her that sly smirk of his. How her sharp tongue could lash coldly against those who had wronged her. When her comforting fingers intertwined in his to soothe him quietly. Her dark eyes could be so hard yet could potentially soften whenever he looked at her.

There was only one word for what Blair Waldorf was.

"She's perfect."

He felt questioning eyes on him once more, but then again, he found that Blair Waldorf made him unable to focus on anything but his primal needs. He laid several bills on the table, ignoring the cacophony of disbelieving laughter.

"Not possible. Even for you."

Even mere mortals could understand what an etheral goddess that woman was.

"Especially for me," Chuck said confidently before slipping away without even a second thought.

Gin martini. As it should be. He liked that he could at least predict her drink when every single other thing about her was so unpredictable. Taking a seat by her side, he knew that even though her eyes were determinedly and infuriatingly not on him, she knew his exact position.

"I know a certain backseat of a limo that's been missing you," he murmured into her ear, stroking her hair from her shoulder and down her back.

"Does that line usually work?" Blair asked, ignoring his suggestive hand.

"It only applies to you," he replied with a smirk. He turned back to the bartender. "Another gin martini."

"Don't bother," Blair said, waving it away. "I was just leaving."

"Good idea," Chuck answered. "This place is tired."

"I didn't mean with you," Blair said in a voice that he knew was meant to push him away.

He knew better. He knew what she really wanted. Like every other night she wanted.

It was easy enough to slip his arm around her waist. He breathed in the scent at her temple, enjoying the feel of her hair against his face once again.

"You nauseate me," Blair said at his breath, but she made no initial action to remove him from her.

"Yeah," he said, "but you like it."

"I'm not going home with you," Blair said.

"That's not really a problem for me," Chuck said. "Your satin bed sheets make me nostalgic."

It irked him how easily she could always slide out of his grasp. He was forever cursed to watch her walk away from him. But lately, he just couldn't leave it up to fate. He knew that some sort of higher power had it out for him and he couldn't let it happen.

Now he was just forever cursed by Blair Waldorf's excrutiating pleasure until the end of the earth.

"Are we really going to play this game?" Chuck asked, relieved that he was no longer stifled by the fumes and the eyes permeating the bar. Finally, Blair allowed herself to turn on the street to meet his eyes.

"You're the one who started this."

"Me?" Chuck asked. "There were two of us that night."

"Not in the elevator," Blair said and Chuck loved that she was still so strangely innocent that flush colored the planes of her face.

"I see," Chuck drawled, circling her like that predator that he knew made her revel in the chase."You mean that night. The night where you all too willingly crawled on top of your mother's piano."

"You were the one to tear up that treaty," Blair reminded him.

"Like you weren't begging me too with those wide, expressive eyes of yours," Chuck said. True to his words, those eyes wavered and he felt like he would be lucky just to drown in them. "There's a reason I did and you know it. You wanted to violate Article 19 as much as I did. And you loved how we... violated it."

"I'm getting a cab," Blair said tersely, turning towards traffic to hail one.

"A cab?" Chuck asked with disdain. "I can't remember the last time you did public transportation."

"Around the time that I finished doing you and got out of your limo," Blair retorted without even looking back at him. It was several moments before he realized he was staring at her. Never had a met someone so ready and so quick with a retort on her tongue.

But no matter how much he knew she would always belong to him, she was still ignoring him. Chuck sighed, deciding to humor her for a few seconds before growing incredibly bored.

"Are we really doing this?" Chuck asked.

"_We_ aren't doing anything," Blair replied curtly.

"You are so frustratingly stubborn," Chuck said. "I thought we had solved this problem."

"You said you wanted to play," Blair said cruelly.

"Do you really have such a problem with me pleasuring you like no one else can?"

Blair's eyes were scathing, but as she slammed the taxi door behind her, he couldn't help but smirk.

He knew he would make it to her penthouse before she did. Arthur was a professional.

"What took you so long?"

Blair paused at her door to see the bastard lounging on her bed, and she hated the déjà vu that reminded her of when their roles were reversed.

"I didn't think you'd be here," Blair replied monotonously, not sure where this lack of disdain for him had come from.

But it wasn't that hard to figure. They were alone now and he was looking at her like he used to. She knew it was dangerous, but he was standing and she knew there was always only one way they could ever end.

In a burst of flames.

They strode towards each other and suddenly hate and love were not an issue. They both blended into one primal urge and she was glad that Serena was too involved in her own drama to bother coming home.

Ripping his shirt off of him, she could feel his smug smirk pressing passionately into her lips. Her hands traveled up the expanse of his back to feel the marks that apparently hadn't healed over since their last encounter.

Chuck pulled away, even more arrogant as he knew exactly what she was thinking.

"You're amazing."

It was the word that would always make her heart flutter, no matter how much she commanded it not to.

"Chuck..." she warned but his deep kiss silenced her.

"I've never been with someone who makes it hurt so good."

Blair shoved him away, but as she did, she knew she was just fulfilling his remark.

So she raked her nails down his back again. Just because he liked it.

It was his eyes that really frightened her. Panting breaths, perspiring flesh and he was just looking at her. Really looking at her in a way that she knew he never did with any of his conquests. She knew that she didn't want to be conquered, but this was something that she didn't know how to handle.

"I think you should leave."

Blair sat up in bed, her bare back facing him. She felt his reaction, but could never truly analyze it without turning towards him.

And that was something she simply could not do.

"So soon?" Chuck asked. "We didn't even have time to cuddle."

His tone infuriated her, causing her to spin towards him, belatedly realizing that she had fallen into his trap. He eased up slowly, never leaving her eyes.

"You don't want me to leave," he finally said.

"Yes, I do."

"Fine," he clarified. "You want to want me to leave. But you don't."

"Don't make this harder," Blair answered, wishing for the days when the both of them were just so easy at denial.

Chuck ignored the obvious opening for innuendo.

"I know you trust me, Blair," Chuck said.

"So do I," she answered. "That's the problem."

So he left. There was nothing else to say.

* * *

"What are you doing here?"

Dan had to look up at the voice. Strangely enough, it wasn't full of the usual detestation and revulsion. Blair Waldorf was leaning against the banister in her robe, and for the first time, didn't look as though she were about to kick him out.

Instead, she just sounded fatigued.

"I can go..."

"Serena's avoiding you," Blair said, making her way down the staircase. "But you already knew that."

"I guess."

"And that's why you're here."

"Serena's avoiding me," Dan said in defeat, slumping against the couch. It came as a complete surprise to him as he heard Blair's heels still clicking towards him. He looked up to see her sitting stiffly at his side.

"At least she has the willpower."

"Are you saying you don't have the willpower to stay away from me?" Dan joked. As he suspected, Blair finally didn't disappoint him and threw him a brief look of disdain. But that was all he got, and for some reason, that worried him.

"What was Chuck doing in your kitchen that day?"

Dan knew the answer, but her solemn expression was of the same vulnerable kind he had only remembered seeing on her once before, sitting on the floor of a photo shoot, tears clinging to her eyelashes.

Blair's breath hitched and Dan really had to hate himself for feeling even an ounce of pity for Blair Waldorf.

"What's wrong with me?" Blair whispered.

Dan knew it was a rhetoric question, despite the number of answers that flooded his brain. But in this instance, he knew that he was in the wrong. He truly couldn't answer why one person could feel so much for the other when there had been so much hurt in the past. He knew what that was like. And for some reason, tears on Blair Waldorf made even him empathetic.

"Is it worth it?" Dan finally asked. Blair looked at him and they both knew that she was expecting some sort of wry reply. "That's the only answer I can think of. You wouldn't do it if it wasn't worth it."

"That's irrelevant," Blair answered. "Whether if it's worth it or not, the fact of the matter is, I'm masochistic. Why else would I let myself fall for him when I know what we have isn't even real?"

"Yes, it is," Dan answered. He felt her questioning eyes on him. "Chuck has always been with other women, and maybe it doesn't seem like it now, but when you're apart..."

He felt Blair's rapt attention as she hung onto every word. It confounded him that she didn't even know how the love of her life felt about her. The degree of intensity that Chuck felt was obvious to everyone but the person who needed it most.

"Chuck will get over everyone else," Dan finished. "But without you, he just fades into that empty person he was before. He becomes monstrously self-destructive."

"And when did you become so observant?"

There was that ire that he recognized.

"When you were writing your exposé?"

"And that's why we're not friends," Dan said, getting to his feet. He had almost reached the elevator when she spoke up.

"Is it worth it to you?" Blair asked. "All the hell that she's put you through?"

Dan sighed. "I'll get back to you."

* * *

"So you're going."

Blair finished fastening her earrings to see Serena hovering behind her in the mirror.

"Everyone's going to be there."

Her voice was meek and she hated that about herself, but what she hated more was that it was Chuck Bass that did it to her.

"Including Chuck."

Blair turned, hating this dance she had started with Serena. Serena knew exactly what was going on, and Blair hated this facade that her best friend had up, refusing to admit anything.

"Well it is his club."

"Don't go, B."

"Give me one reason."

_And "I'm Chuck Bass" doesn't count._

But she wouldn't go back there. She just couldn't. She could already feel herself sinking into this emotional sandpit and it was too painful to even deal with.

"Just don't."

"That's not an answer," Blair answered, sweeping past her without one backward glance.

Serena didn't deserve it.

"I'm worried about you."

"Really?" Blair asked, her voice taking on that husky voice of danger. "And why would that be?"

Serena swallowed.

"You can't even say it," Blair sneered, elbowing past Serena to get out of the suffocating room.

"You know it's wrong, Blair."

Blair turned on her heel, malice still coating every word.

"Then why does it feel so right?"

To be honest, that wasn't really a question.

* * *

Blair always liked the marble bathroom at _Victrola_. It was the ornate mirrors. They were styled with so much detail that Blair found herself staring at her reflection for longer than was socially appropriate.

That was the only time she could say that.

But at this point, she found herself staring at her reflection more for the solitude, knowing that Serena never followed her into bathrooms. And she knew that this had more to do with the scalding eyes she felt on her for the better part of the night.

Especially as she made her way up the stairs to the second tier of the club.

She was weak. She always had been and when it came to the Prince of Darkness. He resorted her into someone no one else would recognize.

In the best and worst ways possible.

He was the only one. It had always been that way. And looking down at the people she had so often called her friends as they drank and danced, she had never felt more alone.

Until she wasn't anymore.

"I felt you the second you walked in."

Blair froze at the railing, her knuckles turning white as she felt the heat from his body pressing against her back.

Chuck stared at the nape of her neck, showcased as her dark curls spilled over her shoulder. He slid his hand over it, and for a moment, he just couldn't help it.

It was a sort of anger attributed to seeing her. The sort of dark heat that filled his chest as she looked so dramatically striking that he found it necessary that he hurt her. The darkness in him that hated her for her beauty and her perfection and how easy it was for her to leave him and refused not to be affected by him.

He hated her for his obsession with her.

Standing on the balcony, as he and his Dark Queen looked at his kingdom, he felt how very close he was to oblivion.

"Chuck..."

He ignored her warning.

"You have no right to refuse, princess," Chuck warned her in return. "Not anymore."

"We're in public," Blair retorted sharply. He knew her subtext.

_Not here._

That was promising.

And yet.

"You don't like that anymore?" Chuck smirked into her neck. Blair had to turn to see his face, but he had her trapped so tightly against the railing, all she could do was exhale.

"Why do you insist on destroying me?" she asked quietly.

"Because we consume each other," Chuck husked into her ear. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

Blair closed her eyes, feeling his lips caress her flesh, not able to do anything else as they hovered over all of society.

"Don't do that."

Her eyes snapped open, in astonishment over whatever she had done to displease him.

"I like to see your eyes," he said, though she knew that was physically impossible from his angle. "I like to see them look down at all those people who don't really know you as I make you come undone."

True to his word, his hand slid up her thigh, and before she could stop him, she felt the house come down around them.

"You know that I'm the only one who really knows you," Chuck said, "don't you?"

"Chuck," she gasped.

"Stop me," Chuck said. "Open your pretty little mouth and just pretend you don't want yourself clenching around me."

All that came out of her mouth were pathetic moans as he chuckled sardonically into her ear.

Blair always liked the bathroom. The mirrors reflected each other eerily so she could watch herself wipe the tracks of mascara down her face.

She never hated it more.

* * *

Suffice to say, Chuck Bass was not Serena Van Der Woodsen. He didn't feel the need to get attention by the means of the paparazzi, and when it came to Blair Waldorf, he wasn't ignorant. When it came to Blair Waldorf, Chuck Bass knew everything. And he knew no matter how much Serena fooled herself, watching Blair stumble out of a bathroom was never a good thing.

Chuck pushed himself from the wall, and the way that Blair's vulnerable face morphed into a cold mask, answered his question.

"Haven't you had enough?" Blair sneered, placing her elbow exactly where she knew made him cringe.

"Not nearly," Chuck retorted, recovering quickly from her predictable move to pull her back to him.

"How unfortunate for you," Blair said coldly to him. "I'm going home."

"Why?" Chuck asked. "The tile of the bathroom floors aren't up to your normal standards? I'm sorry we didn't consider the possibility that girls would be kneeling on them during construction."

She recovered from his jab enough for her own retort.

"Really?" Blair asked in disbelief. "Here I was under the impression that every girl was on her knees for you."

"Only this one," he said cheekily, leaning in towards her. Her nails pierced his forearm, and he knew he would lose it if he didn't back up.

"I get it, Bass," Blair said, and he didn't like her tone. He knew how fast and how hard this could spiral out of control. "I'm your concubine, I'm your whore. But don't for one second pretend that you care."

"Don't," he warned. "Don't even think-"

"Stop," Blair cut him off. "We've had an arrangement, but that's it. We loved each other once, but that's over now. And don't even pretend differently."

Staring after her, Chuck knew exactly what trap he had fallen into. The one that he had fallen into at sixteen, and the one he would never stop falling into.

He had fallen and he had fallen in love with her, and now there was only one option.

So he followed her, because at this point, there really was no going back.

There was no waiting for the doorman, or letting Dorota announce him. He forced the door back on his hinges and the very sound of running water made something in him snap.

Her vanity was the closest thing, and in his fit of rage, grabbed it by the edges, slamming it savagely into the wall. He knew the only other alternative was breaking down that door, and he knew he didn't have the self-restraint to contain himself after he knew what he would see in that bathroom.

True enough, the door of the bathroom opened quickly at his explosion of emotion to see Blair wrapping her silk robe around her.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"What am _I _doing?" Chuck demanded. He found his anger was too consuming for him to even speak. Blair's eyes trained to the vanity to see the glass of her mirror had shattered.

The same mirror she had stared into during Chuck's _maybe in the future_ and her breakdown before she found him on the roof of his club. The same one she had let herself get pleasured at not an hour before. And that hadn't even been the first time.

She was literally shaken from her reverie as Chuck put his hands on her, his fingers a vice grip around her upper arms.

The wall came hard into her back, and for the first time, she really knew what it was like to be shaken by Chuck Bass.

"Let go of me," she said through gritted teeth, not letting him know how bruising his fingers were. Because even if logic told her she should be afraid, all she really found herself was furious.

"I hate you," Chuck growled. "I really do. You think you're so entitled, but going around trying to kill yourself doesn't make you stronger. It makes you weak and pathetic."

"I'm pathetic?" Blair asked, finally finding the strength within her to shove Chuck away. He stumbled back a few steps in surprise, but then again, he was used to getting assaulted. "You followed me here all the way from midtown."

"I thought I didn't care about you," he reminded her nastily. She hated how it stung her heart. She hated how she knew her feelings for him were rising to the surface quicker than before, and she knew the only way to remedy that was to hurt him back.

"Are you going to hit me?" Blair taunted. "You can't control me so that's the only thing you can control."

Fury flashed in his eyes, and she knew she should feel danger, but all she felt was anger to rip him limb from limb.

"Stop talking," Chuck commanded.

"Stop coming here," Blair practically screamed. "Stop torturing me, stop ruining me, stop destroying me. Just stop."

"You like it," Chuck answered coldly. Her hands met his chest coldly, and she hadn't understood what just happened until an even bigger crash exploded, shards falling to the surface of her vanity. Chuck looked stunned, and for a moment, she was truly afraid that she had hurt him.

But he peeled himself from the wreckage as easily as if she hadn't touched him at all.

"Sooner or later you're going to admit that we're too volatile to stay away from each other," Chuck said.

Chuck turned from the room, and it was only at the sound of the elevator closing did she let herself sink to the floor, wracked with sobs. Because she knew what he really meant. She knew there was only one thing he meant by that. And she knew she just couldn't admit it to herself.

So she cried.

At the sound of her door, she was truly afraid that he never left at all, but relieved tears washed over her like a wave as she saw Dan Humphrey enter her room. He stood before her and her sobs couldn't stop, even in front of the scourge of New York.

Dan sat beside her, and without preamble, wrapped his arms around her.

"There's something wrong with me," Blair gasped with despair. "There really is."

"It's alright," Dan said comfortingly. "It's alright."

Blair shook her head stubbornly, but for the first time, let Dan just be with her.

"He's coarse and he's horrible," Blair said, "but I just can't stop. And I never will be able to."

Dan hugged her closer, and for the first time, she wasn't afraid to do anything but break.


	6. As This Heat Explodes Around Us

**A/N**: Sorry that I haven't updated in forever. Right now my priority is I Am the Way Into the City of Woe. I'm getting a little off track, but I wrote this anyway. This is probably the longest chapter that I've written, but everything is important.

**Summary**: He could worm his way into her life so effortlessly, even when she was sure she had called the exterminator to destroy his infestation. Then again, as he began to corner her once again, she found it difficult to even want to ward off his infection.

**Disclaimer**: Absolutely nothing is mine. This SL is inspirared (taken) from the 6th season of Buffy, and characters are not mine. Thanks to **comewhatmay.x** who took the time to beta this.

* * *

Blair used to love the holidays. Thanksgiving was always the time she spent bonding with her father before junior year of high school-before his abadonment-but it was Christmas that always had the best parties. And in Manhattan, that was usually how most of their time was spent.

Unfortunately, hosting the most popular gathering for the young elite in her home, Blair knew exactly the sort of people that would show up-the exact person that would. The sort of person that she had pushed into a mirror days prior. And if she knew that sort of person. That sort of person would have something us his sleeve. And not something obvious.

Blair Waldorf had to be wary of deviant behavior. Now more than ever.

"We have a surprise for you."

She detested that sentence, even more so when it came from her best friend's mouth. Blair pivoted, drink in hand, to see Serena and Eric van der Woodsen with looks on their faces that she could never trust.

"No."

Blair wove her way through the crowd.

"You don't even know what we're going to say," Eric protested.

"The fact that you are now involved in some half-baked scheme ensures my suspicion of the Apocalypse," Blair rolled her eyes.

"He's not a scheme," Serena promised.

"He?" Blair asked, more suspicion clouding her judgment.

One look at her best friend and Blair felt her stomach churn uncomfortably.

"Don't worry," Serena assured her from the look on her face. "It's not a date."

"And where did you find such a catch?" Blair sneered at her. "The Desperate and Needy Bar and Grille?"

"No one said you were needy," Serena said.

"I was talking about you," Blair retorted. "I've seen your choice in men, and trust me, I don't want another pretentious artist from Brooklyn to add to my own collection of failed relationships."

"He's not," Serena protested. "He's completely your type."

"No, Serena."

"Well it's too late now," Serena muttered.

"What?"

"We already invited him," Eric answered. "He's on his way."

"_What_?"

"What's the problem?" Serena asked. "It's not the end of the world. It isn't like you invited Chuck or anything."

Blair knew how Serena meant it. She rolled her eyes, but they both knew that Serena just wanted to convince herself. Or both of them, for that matter. But at Blair's silence, all three of them knew the exact situation they had put themselves in.

Or the two of them, Blair couldn't help but think scornfully.

"You invited Chuck?" Serena asked, aghast.

"As if it even mattered if I did," Blair rolled her eyes. "I doubt receiving some formal cream invitation or not would really make him make up his mind on his attendance."

"Especially when it comes to you," Eric couldn't help but say under his breath.

"What was that?" Blair asked coolly.

"Nothing."

"That's what I thought.

.

Serena didn't like it. Any of it, for that matter. She didn't like how Blair was just like she had been in high school—susceptible to the bout of Chuck Fever that always seemed to come around at least once a year. She didn't like how she was forcing herself to stay away from Dan. And she definitely didn't like how this night was starting out.

She knew the moment he walked in. She knew it was unlikely that Blair had invited him, but ever since high school, Dan Humphrey just seemed to be showing up at any and every society party. Serena hesitated in the parlor, anticipating that sweetly awkward moment when Dan would gaze upon her.

But it never came.

Instead, she saw something much more disturbing.

"Waldorf."

"Humphrey."

Serena had never seen the two of them act so casually with each other, and she found herself so at odds with the scene that she couldn't help but watch with morbid fascination.

But that came to a distinct halt when the unimaginable happened. Dan's arms circled Blair's shoulders and suddenly they were in what looked to be a friendly embrace.

Serena couldn't help but stare.

"Didn't think you'd make it."

Dan studied Blair for a moment, remembering how she had, not long ago, been falling apart on her bedroom floor. She looked so put together, but he knew people. And people couldn't pull themselves together just like that.

Especially when it came to Blair and Chuck.

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright," Dan offered chivalrously. Blair rolled her eyes, but to his relief, didn't make her usual snide comment.

"You know me," Blair smiled tightly.

"Yeah," Dan said with a look of surprise. "I guess I do."

"So you know that any mention of-"

"Don't worry about it," Dan assured her. "It didn't happen, if I open my mouth I'll be eviscerated. The usual."

"Thank you," Blair said quietly. Dan narrowed his eyes at her, forcing her to continue. "No one has really been there for me before. No questions asked. It meant something."

"Just glad I could help."

There was that uncomfortable smile again and it was obvious to Blair the topic Dan was interested in.

"So is he coming?" Dan just asked.

"I didn't invite him," Blair shrugged. "But that hasn't stopped him before."

"You could," Dan suggested. "If you wanted."

"And that's why we're not friends," Blair remarked. "You have no idea."

Blair knew exactly how twisted the entire situation was becoming. She didn't have to see Serena over Dan's shoulder to know that.

.

Chuck always hated the holidays. They were just another reminder of how he didn't have a family, only Bart's cruel stares and lonely vacations to Monaco.

Things changed.

Though Bart's untimely demise had occurred mere weeks before the holiday he already loathed, that also came with perspective. Perspective was a beauty with wide brown eyes proclaiming her love for him. Though he was sure that was the one present he wasn't getting this year, it was worth it.

Because walking through those elevator doors to see her sparkling and shimmering and shining, he knew that this was the one holiday where things would work out for him.

Even if he was flexing a stiffly bandaged hand that so recently had shards of mirror embedded in it.

"Chuck."

She tried to suppress the shaking in her voice, but from his smug smirk, she knew that she had failed. It wasn't that she was naïve enough to think that he wouldn't show. It was the gauze adorning his hand that she hadn't been aware of previously. And there was that sardonic chuckle as he noticed where her eyes strayed.

His white fingers wrapped around a bottle, offering what she had just realized he had been toting with him to her tantalizingly.

"Dom '95," he offered generously. "Your favorite if I recall."

"Bribes don't work on me anymore," Blair said coolly.

"Does guilt?" he asked. He watched with satisfaction as she stiffened. It only lasted a moment, because the remorse invoked guilt in himself.

He never liked watching her suffer, even if he did take small pleasure in watching her squirm. He reached out a hand, lifting her chin to meet his gaze.

"Don't look so forlorn, kitten," Chuck drawled. Blair jerked away, but only so far as to keep a safe distance. Because he knew that she would never move so far away that he couldn't reach her again. "You and I both know there's a thin line between pleasure and pain. But I am touched by how concerned you are for my wellbeing."

Instead of her usual remark of disdain, she retreated another step with a familiar look of revulsion.

"As if you could hurt me," Chuck said smugly.

"Are you really going to speak as though that's so preposterous?" Blair asked, finally getting her wind back. "Because you and I both know how easily I can resort you to your stash of drugs."

"And I'll be the first to admit it," Chuck replied, taking carefully measured steps towards her. "And do you know why?"

Blair had a sneaking suspicion, but her fondness for survival was stronger, so she didn't give him the answer he desired.

Or any answer at all.

"I like how you get with me," Chuck continued. "I like how that suffering soul of yours bites back at my equally twisted one. There's no one like us."

"I thought I disinvited you," Blair answered crossly.

"Never stopped me before."

Wasn't that the truth.

He could worm his way into her life so effortlessly, even when she was sure she had called the exterminator to destroy his infestation. Then again, as he began to corner her once again, she found it difficult to even want to ward off his infection.

Bandaged hand and all.

"Chuck."

Serena's voice was dry, and without true surprise.

"Didn't expect to see you here."

"Yes, you did," Chuck said tonelessly, his eyes never leaving Blair's face.

"Are we interrupting something?"

At Eric's attempt at innocence, Chuck had to turn and look. And what he saw started an angry tidal wave in his stomach. Chuck knew what Blue-Bloods looked like. And there was an unfamiliar one right by Serena's side that he knew for a fact wasn't her date.

He could tell by the way that certain Blue-Blood was looking at the woman by his side.

"Blair," Serena said brightly, motioning to the man at her side. "This is Princeton."

"_Princeton_?" Chuck didn't bother to stop himself from sneering.

"Princeton," Serena said tersely, "this is my best friend Blair."

Begrudgingly, Serena turned to Chuck as well.

"And this is my stepbrother, Chuck."

"Charmed, I'm sure," Chuck said coldly. Princeton looked slightly taken aback, but it was a second too short, to Chuck's dismay. Because the perfect looking suitor didn't seem perturbed at all by his opponent's antagonism.

He was too busy looking at Blair.

Chuck hated him immediately. More than he had not two seconds ago. If that were even possible.

"Princeton was wondering where to put his jacket," Serena said, pushing Princeton in Blair's direction.

"You just passed the closet," Blair pointed out. Serena still prodded Princeton towards Blair, and with one look at Chuck, she had flitted away with her knew acquaintance.

Sometimes, Chuck knew that the universe liked to throw him for a loop and not work in his favor. Because Blair would take any opportunity to get out of his proximity.

For now.

.

"So that friend of yours."

Blair turned in the darkness of the walk-in-closet towards Princeton's voice. Already she had deposited his jacket and she was starting to feel increasingly uncomfortable.

"Is he always like that?"

But at that, it all melted away. She couldn't but just laugh.

"Define...always," Blair smiled.

"Let me guess," Princeton said as they stepped into the hallway. "Turbulent ex."

She felt his eyes on her at her silence.

"Do you need me to define anything else?" Princeton joked.

"Chuck is," Blair took a breath, "complicated."

"Like you."

Blair narrowed her eyes at him.

"Serena likes to talk," Princeton said, almost abashedly. It had been awhile since she had seen body language like that.

"Chuck may seem antagonistic, narcissistic, and mostly sadistic," Blair said, "but only on the outside."

"He's just a gooey mass of emotions on the inside, is he?" Princeton asked.

"If his insecurities didn't get in the way getting that deep," Blair smiled, "I suppose you could say that."

"Have you gotten that deep?" Princeton asked conversationally.

"I've gotten so deep I'll never get out," Blair said.

"You love him."

"I hate that I want to," Blair said, "but yes. He is an acquired taste."

Princeton nodded.

"I'm sure this wasn't what you had anticipated," Blair said. "Getting set up, only to hear me gush over some manipulative, scheming conniving bastard."

"Is that the love talking?"

Blair laughed shortly, sure that was the last they would be talking about that particular subject.

"So, Princeton," Blair said. "Is it a family name?"

"Is Blair?"

Blair's eyes narrowed once again, though interested in his suddenly mocking tone. But he broke into a fearless smile once again, making Blair realize that he was just attempting humor.

"I'm a legacy there," Princeton said. "But I just ended up disappointing them."

"That sounds familiar."

"Does it?" Princeton asked. "You seem...perfect."

"Not perfect enough, it seems," Blair sighed. "Where did you end up going?"

"Yale."

Blair smiled.

.

Dan Humphrey could never like Blair Waldorf. She was cruel and vindictive, but seeing the way Chuck was tortured by her laughing with some Ivy grad, he couldn't help but take pleasure in it.

"What does she think she's _doing_?"

He was sure that Chuck wasn't addressing him, but Dan couldn't ignore the opportunity when it presented itself.

Dan could never like Blair Waldorf. But that didn't mean that he didn't respect her.

"Looks like she's having fun to me," Dan remarked.

At Chuck's sharp turn in his direction, Dan was sure that the dark man hadn't the intention of addressing him.

"Are you blind?" Chuck sneered. "She's suffering. She can't be entertained by some droning bore. Never has, never will."

But Chuck never gave up the opportunity to meddle and corrupt.

"You sure?" Dan asked innocently. "I guess it must be the Yale thing."

"What Yale thing?" Chuck asked suspiciously, finally turning his attention away from Blair and her admirer.

"You know," Dan shrugged. "It's been her dream, and in walks the epitome of it."

"Princeton goes to Yale," Chuck said. The sentence itself sounded absurd.

Dan could suddenly understand at least a part of why Chuck was the way he was. There was a sort of thrill that came with the territory. It was the territory of Chuck's possessiveness that led him to try and win Blair back with his machinations.

Even so, Dan promised himself he would never become like Chuck Bass.

But this was only one night. And for one night, Blair needed to be protected. Even if it was clear that she was quite capable of taking care of herself, Dan liked to see Chuck uncomfortable.

"Went to," Dan corrected. "He's older."

"I don't understand the fascination," Chuck said stiffly. "He's not even attractive."

"Really?" Dan asked, making sure his tone betrayed the utmost sense of doubt. "I mean, I know I'm not one to judge, but I think he's good looking."

"No," Chuck snapped. "You're really not."

"Are you?"

"I know what Blair likes," Chuck said. "And sooner or later she'll get bored."

"That doesn't really depend on his looks," Dan pointed out.

"He's too generic looking," Chuck muttered before stalking away to get what was undoubtedly a shot of something or other.

But Dan did have to admit, Princeton had very straight teeth.

.

Princeton remembered this world. It was cold and full of turmoil on the inside, while on the outside, it was full of perfection. He couldn't help but consider this as he watched Chuck Bass pour himself another scotch. And it was suddenly clear to him why the girl he was set up with loved the bastard. Of course, Princeton knew neither of them. But they were just like their world. And they deserved to be loved.

Princeton liked to believe the best in people.

Chuck liked to see the truth.

"What happened to your hand?"

Chuck's body immediately stiffened as he looked over his glass with dead eyes. Princeton recognized that tactic. It was meant to scare him away.

But really, he was just curious.

Chuck put down the glass, flexing his bandaged hand.

"An accident."

"Really."

Princeton was taken by surprise when Chuck broke out in something that could only be described as a smile.

"Maybe not," Chuck said. "But it was worth it."

"I don't follow."

Princeton recognized the expression now.

Chuck smirked.

"You know I am in every position to hate you right now."

"I know," Princeton answered.

"It's strange that I don't."

"Maybe you don't find me threatening."

"Or maybe you're backing up like you're supposed to," Chuck said curtly.

"Serena said Blair was single."

"That depends on your definition."

Princeton watched Chuck walk away, knowing exactly what direction he was headed towards. And he couldn't help but notice how Blair and Chuck were focused on semantics.

"You look..."

Blair hated the very transparent shiver that ran up her spine, cursing herself even more for letting Chuck corner her in the darkest part of the house where no one could possible see them.

"Ravishing."

He drew out the last word, and she turned around, masking every emotion she ever felt for him on survival instinct alone.

"I didn't invite you."

"Yes you did."

Blair glowered.

"Princeton wasn't your idea."

"And for the first time you're not using that word derogatorily."

"He's not bad," Chuck shrugged.

"No," Blair scowled. "You are."

"And you like that," Chuck whispered in her ear, his hands dragging their way across her skin. "Don't you?"

"I would like for you to leave me alone."

"You made that very clear in our last meeting," Chuck smirked. "Then again, you are very apt in denying what your body aches for."

Blair's eyes strayed to his hand, and Chuck took the opportunity to catch her off guard. He took her hand in his, dragging it to the front of his pants. He felt her tremor beneath his touch as she felt exactly how excited he was for her.

"You know I miss you, love," Chuck caressed her ear with his lips. "I don't have to tell you that."

He chuckled darkly as she tried to pull away, pressing her harder against him. Blair watched in fascination as his eyes fluttered when her hand didn't stray, this time of her own volition.

"You know I want you," he groaned in her ear.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Blair's gasp of surprise was harsh in his ears as she pulled away. He almost let out a groan of disappointment at her absence, but instead opening his eyes to glare at the ultimate and literal cockblocker—Dan Humphrey.

"No," Blair said shrilly, working overtime to sound nonchalant.

There was no confusion between anyone about what was happening, no matter how hard she tried. Her heels clicked quickly away from him, and he leaned back against the wall.

"You can at least try to come up with an excuse," Dan said.

"No," Chuck said bluntly. "But you do have some nerve walking in on a private moment."

"We're in the middle of an elitist party at a penthouse," Dan snorted. "There's nothing private about it."

"I would agree," Chuck said. "Considering they're letting street trash like you get inside."

"I think you have more important things to worry about some so-called street trash," Dan replied easily. "Like Blair's actual date."

"Considering she almost got me off in the corner of this public party, and not her date," Chuck said, "I really don't see a problem."

"She also ran away from you," Dan reminded him.

"Is this some sort of power play?" Chuck asked. "You, actually lusting for the Queen B?"

"Excuse me?" Dan asked in surprise.

"Serena saw your little affectionate embrace in the foyer," Chuck said. "You are going to have to be a lot more stealthy than that if you expect to win."

"Not everyone wants to be as manipulative as you, Chuck," Dan answered.

Chuck laughed. "Not everyone can be."

"It astounds me as to how someone can be so amazingly self-assured," Dan said.

Chuck smiled lightly and Dan regretted the statement.

"Not everything is as it seems, Humphrey."

Dan watched him take his leave, hating himself for always finding some way to humanize Chuck Bass.

.

He made sure he was facing the door. Nate, Jeremy, Keith, and Andy always played poker at these parties. It was rare they invited Chuck, considering he was a shark and always took their money. But Nate was a good friend. He saw the way eyes lingered and breaths were short.

That being said, as Chuck sat down at the table of the private room, he made sure his eyes were facing the door. Because Blair was right outside, and there was no way he was letting her out of his sight.

"Hey."

Chuck glowered at the voice, the bandage cracking over bared knuckles.

"I hope you guys don't mind," Nate said. "I invited Dan to play with us."

Those guys were all lacrosse stoners. They didn't care about anything.

Chuck supposed he would always be the one alienated.

They shrugged in agreement as Chuck glowered.

"Chuck?" Nate asked. "Is this cool?"

"It's your game," Chuck said gruffly. It was clear what his underlying meaning was. But this was the Upper East Side. No one really acknowledged what they were feeling.

Even the stoners.

"So," Dan said, friendly. "How's that leg cramp, Chuck?"

"What?" Nate asked in surprise, looking up from his cards. Chuck focused coldly on Dan, knowing exactly where his nemesis was going with this.

"You remember, Chuck," Dan said, elbowing him in the side like they were friends.

Chuck didn't move.

"You were having problems with your leg," Dan said, "and Blair was just...helping you out."

Chuckles surrounded the table. Those jocks knew Blair, and they knew what codes meant.

"Enough," Chuck said darkly and the tittering stopped abruptly.

There was another reason Chuck never played poker. He was a shark. And he was also a leader. People sensed his power when he entered a room and it made them uneasy.

It was no different now.

Especially when Dan craned his neck to look outside the door. Blair's laughter carried to the room and Chuck knew he had never hated anyone more.

"Maybe you want to put some ice on it," Dan advised, and suddenly, their conversation wasn't so discreet. Nate was the second to look and sighed.

Chuck really hated Dan.

.

Blair Waldorf wasn't naïve. That part of her was shattered to pieces the moment her seemingly innocent boyfriend told her he lost his virginity to her best friend. So when Chuck Bass walked into her house with a stiff hand and a bottle of Dom, she had no qualms with admitting what a disaster it could be.

That was before she realized that there could quite possibly be collateral damage.

Blair didn't know Princeton. She didn't hate him, and that was a feat within itself. But watching Chuck talk to him was disconcerting, to say the least. So was the way Chuck was looking at her.

Without loathing or disdain. And she hated to admit it to herself, but it was possible this non-hatred was mutual. That was why it worried her as Chuck Bass slid his damaged hand across her shoulders.

"Looking a little lonely tonight, princess."

"Princeton has been keeping me company," Blair said coolly, knowing exactly what words of that nature could do to Chuck.

"I don't see Ivy anywhere around," Chuck said casually instead.

"Not that it's any of your business," Blair said, "but Princeton and I aren't involved."

"Is that so?" Chuck asked. "You mean you didn't practically get on your knees for him once you found out he was a Yale alum?"

"Yale was a part of my old life," Blair said. "I go to Columbia."

"Yes, you do," he answered. "But you would be still going to NYU if it weren't for me."

"Are you really going to hold that over my head?" Blair asked furiously.

"No," Chuck shrugged. "Just the satisfaction that I still know you better than anyone else."

"I didn't invite him."

"But you didn't exactly shove him away for fifteen minutes in a coat closet," Chuck retorted.

"Jealous?"

But the second she taunted him, she knew it was the wrong thing to do. Chuck grabbed her suddenly by the throat, his bandage scratching at her skin.

"Absolutely," he drawled.

"Get off of me," Blair said, shoving him away. He stumbled and smirked.

"What are you going to do?" Chuck asked mockingly. "Throw me into a mirror again?"

She was just standing there, and it took him a moment to notice how crestfallen she looked. It never once dawned on him that she could actually feel remorse for what she did. Either way, it didn't matter to him. Because either way, there they were, standing with each other.

"Blair..." he said softly.

"No," Blair said, her voice cracking. "You're right. I shouldn't have done that."

"Are you actually telling me you're sorry?" Chuck asked in genuine surprise.

"What did you want me to say?" Blair asked in confusion. And it was in that second, that he took his opportunity.

He couldn't help himself. When it came to her, his mind was always turning, always seeing a sign of weakness where he could turn her back to him. So he folded her into his arms, in the only way he knew how. And he let her meld to his form, breathing in her scent, though knowing it wasn't going to last.

"You know I liked it."

He got the second shove of the night. But certainly not the last.

"Everything always occurs to you," she said coldly before turning on her heel.

"Only because you wanted it to," he said sharply after her. He watched her hesitate. But it was only for a moment before she continued storm off. "No matter how much you lie to yourself."

.

It started out simply.

"Do you think it's a little hot in here?"

Then it got worse.

Blair stood amidst her guests in a cocktail dress, watching in horror. It was snowing heavily outside the windows, but suddenly buttoned up Upper West Siders were shirking off their jackets in favor of ice-cold champagne, and it became painfully evident that something was wrong.

"The furnace broke."

"What?" Serena asked at the hysterical tone her best friend's voice was taking. But she didn't have to ask as she saw Blair Waldorf in one of the most undignified positions she had ever seen.

First place went to the time Serena had found her best friend on her seventeenth birthday party, in a stranger's room with her stepbrother on top of her.

But watching her now, as perspiration budded on Blair's flesh, running down the crevices of her dress, Serena knew two things.

One, something was definitely wrong with the heat. Two, Chuck Bass was definitely watching somewhere.

"What happened?" Serena asked, placating.

"I don't know," Blair said in distress, running a hand through her now mangled curls. "I just got a call from someone in maintenance. The boiler is on overdrive and they don't know why."

"B, I'm sure they'll find some—"

"Don't you understand?" Blair asked so loudly, several guests turned in concern. "This entire party is _ruined_."

Serena knew she had to do something to soothe her friend, but it was too late, because Blair was already stomping up the stairs, and she couldn't help but be slightly amused.

Blair would always be a melodramatic teenager at heart.

Then she got worried again.

She had been right. Chuck Bass had been watching the entire time.

"Someone should really go up there and console her," Chuck said nonchalantly. Serena caught him quickly by the arm.

"Don't, Chuck," Serena warned. "Just don't."

"Are you really going to leave her unoccupied so that your star-crossed stepbrother of a lover is left to comfort her?" Chuck asked. Serena's hand fell away, not able to deny his words. "I didn't think so."

She wanted to stop him. She really did. But she had to admit, at times, even she was turned selfish by the Upper East Side.

Chuck heard her immediately. Though he was relieved that she didn't seem to be doing what everyone should be worried she was doing, it didn't stay that way for long. The door to her bathroom wasn't locked, and he could see her pacing.

Her breaths were coming in hard, unrestrained pants from her chest, and in that instant, he forgot about everything. He forgot about his seduction techniques and his animosity towards anyone named after an Ivy League school.

Walking through the door of the bathroom, he had to wonder if she felt the same way. She just stared at him, clutching her chest as she slid against the wall to the floor.

He slid his arm easily across her shoulders, feeling her tremble against him.

"Everything is ruined."

Her voice was shaking and sporadic and he just kept on holding her.

"It doesn't matter," he whispered.

"Yes, it does," she snapped, her hands still shaking. "Everything is falling apart. I can't even keep one party from self-destructing. It's a wonder that I can get anything right at all."

"Blair-"

But he felt her pulling away from him. Her dress was crinkling at the waist and her breathing was coming at even more frequent intervals than before.

This wasn't about some party.

"This doesn't matter."

"God, it's so hot in here," Blair said, apparently not even hearing him. "Why is it so god damn hot?"

"Blair..." he said warningly, but this time, it was because he was afraid. Drops of perspiration dewed her hairline, and she was pulling at her asphyxiating dress so harshly, he was afraid she might rip it.

"It's so hot..." she whispered, and he hated himself for being so perverse that while she was in a panic, he still couldn't take his eyes off of her in that way.

He watched her trembling fingers reach for the buttons on her dress, and he was powerless to stop her as she tried to relieve herself from the heat.

"It's almost January," Blair moaned. "Why is it so hot?"

She pulled down the straps of her dress, showcasing her slip, and he finally had to stop her. Because he didn't want her. Not like this.

"Stop," he commanded, his hands covering hers. And instantly, the trance she was in seemed to be broken. She looked up, and for the first time that night, he saw relief flood her face. "Just calm down."

"You think it's really that easy?"

They definitely weren't talking about the party anymore.

"It's okay," Chuck soothed, stroking her damp hair from her face. "Everything is going to be alright."

"How can you be so sure?" she asked weakly.

"Because I want you to be happy," Chuck said. "So you will be."

Finally, she smiled.

"Far be it for me to question the will of Chuck Bass."

Her fingers were still entwined with the front of her dress, and sighing, Chuck distracted them, twisting them with his own. Blair watched as his white gauze blended with her pale fingers, and that pesky feeling of guilt hit her once again.

"I really am sorry."

"For what?" Blair asked in surprise. "I was the one-"

"For pushing you," Chuck said. "I always push too hard."

"Except I'm the one who actually pushed you into a mirror," Blair replied. "I guess that's why we're both alone together on a bathroom floor."

From the moment he had entered the room, she had known it would end up like this. But as always, his lips took her by surprise. He was so smooth in his actions, that she never ended up predicting them.

She had to pull away.

He stared at her, and she couldn't for the life of her figure out if he was displeased with her. She always hated it when he was displeased with her. But he was still stroking her hair, and this time, it was her who grabbed his face.

Her dress already halfway down her body, he pulled the rest off.

She was relieved at how cold the tiles were on her bare back.

.

"I thought it was rude for the hostess to leave the party."

At the bottom of the stairs, Blair had to pause, not recognizing the stranger before her.

"It was just a joke," Princeton said sheepishly.

"I'm sorry," Blair said. And she really was.

"I didn't fool myself when I came here tonight," Princeton said.

"I'm sorry?" Blair asked, using it more as a question than a statement this time.

"When you're in love with someone," Princeton said, "it's hard not to be selfish."

"I didn't mean to be gone for so long," Blair said uncomfortably.

"He doesn't mind being selfish with you," Princeton said. "Though he's not exactly subtle."

"Something he has to work on," Blair said distantly.

"You should let yourself go," Princeton advised.

"Things are more complicated than that," Blair said. "Though it confounds me as to how everyone can give me advise on a relationship they know nothing about."

"Love is love," Princeton said. "Isn't it?"

"I'm sorry," Blair said again.

"I'll survive," he grinned.

It wasn't until later that night that Blair was stricken with the realization that when Princeton had told her she was in love, she hadn't disagreed.


	7. As We Combust

**A/N**: I know it's been so long since I last updated, but this chapter is hella long, so I hope you can forgive me. I keep saying I'll pick up the pace, but like Chuck can never stop loving Blair, I cannot stop from getting distracted. I have finished the outline for this story. Whether it's fortunate or not, only three more chapters to go. I hope you can stick around until then.

**Summary**: He was angry and he was hot and he was pushing her hard up against her building. There was a doorman. There was a city full of people. And yet she found scandal in his arms and relished in it.

**Disclaimer**: Nothing belongs to me. Inspiration comes, of course, from Buffy. Characters and everything else comes from GG. Thanks, as always, to the best beta ever, **comewhatmay.x**.

* * *

It was better if she didn't think about it. She had known this since she was seventeen. Because musing over indiscretions that had transpired between her ex's best friend and her in limos, stranger's beds, and public restaurants didn't help. Obsessing over whether he desired her or what he was thinking didn't further her agenda. And right now, her agenda was leaving the past in the past. Because when it came to Chuck Bass, he had a tendency to muddle her emotions.

That being said, she didn't see him at first. As she exited the town car, approaching the steps of her building, he—of course—kept himself hidden. It was only upon entering that atmosphere of sexual tension did she let her eyes fall upon him. It hadn't occurred to her how strange it was that he wasn't waiting in her foyer or her room to ambush her.

"What do you think you're doing here?"

Chuck had risen from his leaning stance against the building and it was made clear to her the exact reason he had been lying in wait.

Easy access.

Because he had easily pulled her into the darkness beside the building—far from pedestrians' prying eyes—and she knew that she was in trouble.

"We need to talk."

It worried her that he was more concerned with talking than anything else.

Not that she would ever let him know that.

"I don't think so."

Blair pulled away.

Or attempted to.

His grip tightened and he pulled her back into the darkness.

The way he always did.

"Because of him?"

Blair knew fighting was futile. The way Chuck acted when it came to other men was ridiculous. Especially when she knew this was only physical for him.

It had to be. There was no other reason for him to ambush her like that.

"Or maybe our last encounter was too lascivious for you," Chuck drawled. "Sweating and moaning on that cold bathroom floor of yours."

That was it. Just sex. Because it could never be anything more for him.

"Can't you come back and harass me another night?" Blair asked, attempting to extricate herself from his grasp. "I'm really not in the mood."

"Harassing you was the last thing on my mind."

"Is that so?"

"In fact," Chuck continued. "If you aren't in the mood for our physical exertions, we could talk, like I suggested earlier."

"Why?"

"Because I've had enough."

He was so firm with her that she was actually frightened. Chuck used to revel in the game. But that was only when it culminated in their ecstasy together. This time, there was no end in sight, and Chuck didn't like it. Chuck liked the game. But he loved her more. And at the moment, it wasn't a fruitful victory. Not when it kept ending like this.

"You pull me in, you push me away-"

"It's what we do, Chuck."

"There was a time when we didn't," Chuck reminded her. "There was a time when we were just together..."

"Is that what you propose?" Blair asked, and he refused to dwell on how that last word rang in his ears. "You want to date me? We both remember how that ended last time. And here I thought you just wanted to screw."

"Is that what you want?" Chuck asked. "Because that can easily be arranged."

He was angry and he was hot and he was pushing her hard up against her building. There was a doorman. There was a city full of people. And yet she found scandal in his arms and relished in it.

She was reminded of the first time and the second and the limos and pianos and everything and she couldn't stop herself. She could never stop them. So she let him take control. She let him take her against that building.

Because as much as she reveled in it, he was the one thing that she could never control.

And she liked it.

* * *

Blair realized her mistake of wearing heels that night. She should have known. Wearing heels now was impractical considering she could barely walk after her...interactions with him.

"Hey."

Blair wobbled suddenly at the sound of her best friend's voice in the parlor.

"Are you alright?"

Blair slipped of her shoes discreetly with the flawless smile she had perfected so well.

"Perfect," Blair said, without missing a beat.

"Really?"

Looking at her shoes in the corner, she couldn't help but realize they were the exact ones that had been hidden behind the piano that night. The ones that dug so sharply into his back.

For the second time.

He didn't complain. He never did. He wore the battle scars with pride.

Bastard.

"Because there are two buttons missing from your blouse."

Blair was lucky. She wasn't Serena and when she was taken aback, she knew exactly how to cover it up. It was a talent that she wasn't alone in being gifted with, but thinking about that at the moment would get her exactly nowhere.

"It must have been my dry cleaner," Blair said, lying with practiced ease.

She could tell that Serena didn't believe it.

* * *

"You're late."

Blair knew she would dread entering _Sarabeth's_ that day, but her mother had apprehended her quicker than she had predicted.

"Mother," Blair greeted Eleanor, smiling at those who had greeted her as she passed. But as she had perfected it since grammar school, her smile was as fake as the feelings beneath it, and it fell away as soon as she was out of sight. "Nice to see you too."

"Do you have any idea why I do all of this?" Eleanor asked. Blair felt herself tighten, as though in preparation for an attack. "Why I go through all the pains of organizing a nice brunch with the best contacts in New York?"

Blair knew she didn't have to ask. She was going to get the answer whether she wanted it or not.

"It's for you," Eleanor continued. "All of these people are here for you. So you can make contacts, be a part of something."

"I'm doing fine without your guidance, Mother," Blair said through clenched teeth.

"Are you?" Eleanor asked. "Because it doesn't seem as though you are committed, especially with your highly publicized dalliances with Charles Bass."

"'Highly publicized dalliances'?" Blair asked in disbelief.

First and foremost, Blair was sure that she had kept certain liaisons with Chuck quite confidential. If there was anyone who could accomplish such a task, it was Blair and who her mother said she was dallying with. But in another part of her, she felt her fierce protection of Chuck fire up within her.

It wasn't something she had felt for a long while, but was sure it was still there nonetheless. She always felt protective of him. He was always the one who needed it the most. And he didn't need her mother attacking him, the way she always did.

The way every society matron on the Upper East Side did.

"He's my friend."

"A friend who has an atrocious reputation," Eleanor replied. "The things he did at Anne Archibald's foundation-"

"A friend I've had practically since birth," Blair said. "I'm not going to abandon him just because some women who have nothing better to do than gossip think he's unseemly."

"He is unseemly," Eleanor answered. "Now is the point in your life where you need to start cutting away the irrelevant parts of your life."

Blair remembered years ago where she had heard such words against the very same person and the things she had said.

She almost repeated it.

_That piece of work, Chuck Bass, needs me._

_He needs me._

But she didn't. She wasn't sure if her mother was diabolical or just lucky, but Blair knew if she spoke any words in protection of him, it would be the end of her.

"You need to start focusing on starting your life," Eleanor said. And Blair understood her. She understood that her mother wanted what was best for her. But she also understood that Eleanor didn't know everything. She didn't know what made her happy.

And it was starting to frighten her that she was thinking that he was the person who made her happy. Even so, there was no way she could cut Chuck out of her life. Even after the devastation that he had caused, it proved impossible.

Chuck was a part of her. He would always be. That was just something that no one could understand.

Sometimes, Blair didn't even understand it herself.

Even so, stating as much to Eleanor Waldorf was not the best decision Blair could make. So she just listened.

"And having Princeton wait here all day is not making a good impression-"

"Princeton?" Blair asked in confusion, snapping out of her survey of the room and its elite occupants.

"Serena pointed out that boy who was at your party," Eleanor said. "She said you had a good time. And I must say, he seems to be of a much higher caliber than Ch-"

"Mother," Blair finally snapped, a fleeting sense of vindication at Eleanor's look of surprise. "If you wouldn't mind."

Finally separating herself from Eleanor, Blair knew that her mother would be satisfied at her path, though it was clear she was completely oblivious to what had happened between her and that _boy_ the night of her party.

"Hi."

She hated to admit it, but Princeton did have a charming way about him. Immediately she felt guilty, though unaware as to the reason why.

"I'm sorry."

And then she was confused.

"Excuse me?" Blair asked. She had fully intended on apologizing for her own behavior the night before, but again, Princeton proved to not be like the men she was used to.

"I promise I didn't know you'd be here," Princeton said. "My parents are just friends with..."

"Why would it matter?"

Princeton was looking at her cautiously, and for some reason, it felt as though he was walking on thin ice.

"Well, I wouldn't be here if it weren't for-"

"I mean why does it matter that I'm here?" Blair asked. "If I was acting strange the other night-"

"That's why I thought it would," Princeton said. "Because of the other night."

Blair studied him closely for a moment, bust still not speaking.

"I'm not oblivious," Princeton said. "I know why Serena brought me there. If I had known you were involved with someone, I wouldn't have put that kind of pressure on you."

"Princeton-" Blair said, not sure whether she should feel uncomfortable or not, considering that she had no idea if she was actually involved with anyone.

"And I definitely wouldn't have shown up here."

Blair's eyes narrowed, once again confused by his insinuations.

"You don't know," Princeton realized.

"Know what?"

As though she had to ask.

All she had to do was follow Princeton's line of sight over her shoulder.

And there he was, searing eyes searing with intensity into her back—evidently throughout the entire conversation.

"I'm sorry too," Blair said distantly, her eyes never leaving Chuck's.

* * *

"What are you doing?"

Blair was furious. Even as Serena's voice interrupted the staring contest he was having with his brunette beauty, that much was clear. He begrudgingly tore his eyes away from her to center on his stepsister.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"I didn't mean about that," Serena said, attempting to pull Chuck away from anywhere he could catch her best friend's eye.

"Well it's going exceedingly well," he winked. "In every endeavor."

"Like The Empire?"

"Meaning?" Chuck asked, always aware of any pointed comment.

"KC's here," Serena said. "I just thought you should know."

"Why is she here?" Chuck asked. "Brunch at _Sarabeth's_ isn't really where a public relations representative would slam her usual tequila shot."

"Don't ask me," Serena answered. "I don't work for her anymore. She's your employee. And I'd rather not interact with that harpy."

Serena slid away and Chuck had to roll his eyes at the fact that this would be the exact place that KC would find acceptable to apprehend him.

She had no standards.

"Don't you have the ninth gate of hell to guard?" Chuck asked in a bored tone, though letting KC take him by the arm.

"Charming," she answered, "as always. We need to talk."

"Now?"

"Do you care about your hotel at all, or do you want to socialize with some Old Money elitists who don't respect you?"

Chuck had to pause.

Eyes of black were on him and even though he knew she was displeased with him, she was still looking.

And that was the only reason that he came. As was his usual motive.

And she was glaring.

Some corporate man-eating, power hungry fury was monopolizing his time and Blair didn't like it. Even though KC would sneer down on elitists who apparently didn't have enough depravity for the likes of Chuck Bass, he knew differently.

Even if he was still furious with her for, once again, taking the predictable path with predictable Princeton Ivy.

* * *

Chuck could convey the most acute of emotions with a simple look. She felt his eyes burning into her back and she could tell to the exact degree how frustrated he was.

"Are you alright?"

Princeton was simple. Princeton was easy. She didn't have to worry that he would try to lure her into a closet at any given moment.

Or a limo.

She was trying. She really was. But it still wasn't the same.

"Fine," Blair smiled, ignoring the cold stare from across the room.

"I don't have any misgivings about this."

Blair had been fully intent on just breezing through this brunch, but Princeton seemed so intent on speaking that she was forced to look.

"Misgivings."

"I know the real reason why you're talking to me"

"And?"

"Your mother set this up," he replied.

"I'm not a slave to my mother."

"You're a slave to your emotions."

"What's the point in living if you can't feel?" she asked. "What matters is that I'm not a slave to him."

"That's what I mean."

"It's easier talking to you," Blair said. "It makes me forget for awhile."

"Is it really a good sign that you want to forget?"

"Forget about how painful it is to have to hide who I truly am all the time?" Blair asked. "I deserve to be away from it all for a few hours."

"And you're truly yourself," Princeton said, "when you're with him."

"He was the only one to really accept me," she said. "To embrace me. All of me. Not just the shiny parts I show to the world."

"Maybe you don't give people enough credit," Princeton said. "Not everyone is so quick to judge."

"My first boyfriend cheated on me with my best friend because I was scheming and conniving," Blair said. "I think I learned that lesson."

"Maybe it was because you were so closed off."

Blair's eyes narrowed, astonished by his audacity.

"Are you seriously saying that it's my fault?" Blair asked.

"All I meant was," Princeton said, "I know this world. Everything is hidden. It looks perfect and beautiful on the outside, but nothing is as it seems. You shouldn't be with him as a last resort."

"Chuck?" Blair asked, unable to contain her disbelief. "If I was desperate, my choices would be much more bleak. That isn't it. I am just unable to resist him."

"You think that's healthy?"

"I think it's right," she said. "He can't resist me either."

"Like he can't resist KC?"

Blair felt a coldness seep through her bones. The sentence itself was preposterous, but she couldn't help it.

Chuck wasn't the only one with irrational jealousy.

"What?"

"The one Serena was talking to," Princeton said. "I saw them go off somewhere together."

"Chuck and KC aren't together," Blair said. "She's a bottom-feeding publicity whore. Chuck would rather be under the radar."

"I just heard them talking."

"About what?" Blair pressed.

She just needed to know.

She needed to know everything.

"What were they talking about?"

* * *

"And where have you been all day?"

From the moment he heard that celestial voice in the deserted hallway, he should have known.

But she always threw him off guard.

He turned around, unsure as to what he was anticipating, but she was looking at him with those eyes of hers and all reasoning disappeared in an instant. He ignored the fact that they were supposed to be at odds and that their relationship was never fixed in conventional borders. He ignored the fact that all of this screamed 'trap.' But he didn't care.

Because she was looking at him like that again and all was right with the world.

"Why?" he asked smoothly, approaching her like the predator he was.

He should have realized that this was her hunt, and he was actually her prey.

"Have you been missing me?"

She allowed his body close and to have his allure and his musk surround her.

"I just wanted to ask you something," she said with allure of her own, drawing her hand up the lapel of his jacket.

"And what would that be, princess?"

She shifted her hair from her neck.

And that was the second he knew the trap he had fallen into.

"Does KC know what you're doing in the backrooms of your clubs?"

Chuck's eyes clouded with an unreadable emotion.

"You know exactly the answer to that," Chuck said. "Or you wouldn't be asking."

The spell was broken, but he couldn't understand where this was coming from.

"When did you become so judgmental all of a sudden?" Chuck asked. "You know everything that goes on back there."

"I don't," she said quietly, as though she were ashamed.

"Then why are you so accusatory?"

"All of the drugs and the dirty money," Blair said, "none of that matters to me. It should. But I just don't care."

"Did you ever?" he asked. "Did you ever judge me like everyone else does?"

"No," she answered. "But this is the first time I realized how strange that is."

"Strange."

"When people look at me, they see this chaste, perfect vision of society," Blair said. "And when they look at you, they see the complete opposite."

"You're not like that," he said. "You're not like the rest of them. You seem to be, but you're not cold on the inside. You're not like them. And you know that."

She didn't answer.

"So the question remains," Chuck said, "what is this all about?"

"People think you're having an affair with KC."

That was something he had not been expecting. He saw Blair's cold eyes, but she looked like that whenever he saw her. He didn't think that who he was talking to merited distrust.

But they couldn't trust each other. Not when they couldn't trust each other with the truth anyway.

"People, or _Princeton?_" Chuck sneered.

"Does it matter?"

"It matters that you care."

He was smirking, and she knew that she wasn't the only predator. That was why they were the way they were. They were always bantering and warring.

But they were always equals.

"And you do care," Chuck smugly. "You care about me even though you never admit it anymore. Don't you, kitten?"

"I don't care about you," Blair said sneeringly. "I don't have emotional ties to you of any kind. But I won't have you sullying my memory of us with some attention whore."

"Don't worry," he said smoothly. "I could never replace you."

It wasn't anything she could fight anymore. He was there and she was there and there was just something between them.

"With anyone," Chuck continued. He was genuine and he felt for her and she hated how she felt for him right back.

"Don't do that."

"Don't do what?"

"You know exactly what you're doing."

"So do you."

"I didn't come here for this."

"No," Chuck said. "You just came here to make your accusations."

"I just had to know."

"If I was screwing my publicist?" Chuck asked. "She's just business. And that is the one thing that I do right."

"I know."

"Just tell me you're jealous."

"No," Blair snapped. "I can't tell you anything anymore. We're not like how we used to be."

"Then what are you even here for?" Chuck asked. "You're not here for me. You don't care-"

"Tell me you want me."

And there she was. The one who would always be his match, his equal. There was a reason they were still the way they were and he knew that would never change.

She didn't care about his illegal dealings because she was the same as him—just no one saw it. No one but him. And she was asking something of him and she was putting herself before him and he knew there was always a reason they found each other in the dark.

"I've never wanted anymore more."

They were no longer afraid of proximity and with her back literally up against the wall, she let him touch her.

"Again."

"I want you," he vowed. "Blair, I lo-"

"Shut up." She cut him off with a kiss. "Just do it."

He knew what she was doing.

He kissed her back anyway.

He knew she was making it her purpose to act callous and uncaring. Even though they had crossed some sort of barrier, with her asking him to actually admit what he was feeling, she couldn't accept it.

So they just kissed.

They kissed and felt and _felt_ and as they clutched each other, Chuck tried not to think of how desperately he loved her.

And how very possible it was that they would never really find their way back to each other like he wanted.

* * *

"Blair."

Strangely enough, it was the last thing she was expecting.

But she should have known.

She should have known—especially from experience—that when she was in compromising positions with Chuck Bass, she was asking to get caught.

It was so much worse this time, however.

She wasn't just making out with an ex during a heated blackout.

As Princeton chanced upon walking into that exact corner, Blair knew it couldn't get any worse.

She and Chuck were still connected.

She could only be thankful that all they were doing was breathing harshly against each other after the fireworks had ceased.

"Sorry," Princeton said suddenly, after his shock had ceased. He had the humility to turn his back as Blair pushed Chuck off of her to cover herself modestly once again. She had been so preoccupied with doing so that she didn't realize. She should have remembered that everything with Chuck could get a lost worse in an instant.

"Wait..."

Princeton's voice was halting and desperate and when Blair looked up, she was staring into her best friend's eyes.

Serena's judgmental eyes always made her feel like vomiting, and all Blair could do was just stand there.

Chuck just sighed, tying his cravat back into place.

He could feel Blair's protestations. His reaction would still be the same.

_You knew exactly who it was._

* * *

He always waited for her. He knew she would come back. She had to. She always had to. It never even occurred to him that she wouldn't. But what should have occurred to him as she walked into his space, was that she was initiating it. She always came back to him, but only after he convinced her.

He should have seen it.

Chuck smirked, setting down his glass with a nonchalance that he always forced himself to possess in her presence. He leaned forward, but she took a hesitant step back.

He still didn't see it.

"Don't," she said quietly. She wasn't looking at in him in the eyes and he didn't like it. "I have to tell you something."

"Are you sure this conversation couldn't be continued in the bedroom?"

"Chuck."

Her eyes finally flashed to his and there was something in there that he had never seen before.

"You're here for me," he said confidently.

"I've always been here for you."

"That's not what I meant and you know it," he said.

"I'll always be here for you," she said. "But not like that. Not anymore."

"You're not serious," he said laughingly. "We've always been like this, Waldorf. Even some Yale Ivy isn't going to change that."

"It isn't him."

For the first time, he believed her. She was calm and she was deadly.

She was Blair.

His brow furrowed suspiciously.

She looked too good. She looked as perfect as she always did, but somehow, he had the feeling that she did it just to kill him.

"You feel like you have to fight me," Chuck said. "But you don't. You know that I don't judge you for anything. You don't have to fight me every time. We can just-"

"It's over, Chuck."

He stared at her for a moment. He could never read her when it really mattered and he couldn't take this.

"No," he refused.

"I'm sorry..."

"Stop," Chuck said, finally getting to his feet before her. "You can just stop. I know this isn't what you want. You want me."

Her eyes wavered and he knew he was catching her. He couldn't go through this every time with her. But for her, he would go through anything. He walked over to her, taking her hand in his.

"I know you want me," he said huskily. "So you can just stop struggling against me."

"That's the problem," she said. "What I want from you I can never have."

Chuck dropped her hand. He always lived in a world of absolutes. Either she loved him or she didn't. But he didn't like this. He didn't like this at all. She was smiling and she was loving, but she was _leaving_ him. She was just leaving. It didn't make any sense.

"This is because of him," Chuck sneered. "Because of Serena."

"It's always going to be like this," Blair said. "We're always going to be sneaking around. We're never going to be—"

"Normal?" Chuck asked. "You want to be normal."

"It's been too much," she said. "There's been too much between us. It can never be fixed."

"So you're just giving up."

"I'm saving you," she said. "I'm saving us. I can't tear my heart to pieces anymore. Even it is for you."

"You can't leave."

It wasn't a command. He never wanted to control her. But she was leaving. She was the only thing he ever had and she was taking his reason for existing away from him.

He couldn't let her.

Her face hardened at his words anyway.

"You really think you can?" he asked, changing the connotation. "It's you and me. That's all there ever has been. You think you can change that many years of history? You think you can just walk away from it all?"

"It's healthier this way."

"Healthier," he laughed coarsely.

There was something in him that told him asking her to stay...because he loved her was the best option. But they didn't say things like that anymore. He couldn't. He never could when she was so close to leaving. He never could because it would just hurt that much more.

He didn't beg.

He was Chuck Bass.

"Tell me this is because of the club."

"It's not."

"You know what I am," Chuck said. "You always have and you loved it."

He could never say that she still loved him. Because he just didn't know if that was true anymore.

"We're the same."

He almost took her hand again. Like he had moments before. Like he had at the White Party where those same words escaped his lips.

But this time, he knew how much he was losing this time. He really knew it. He knew she was really leaving.

"I know." She swallowed harshly. "That's why it's over."

It was such a clean break that he really thought it was. For the first time, he really thought she was leaving.

For good.

In a way that they could never find themselves back together in any way. They could never crash unexpectedly into each other again.

And he was truly dead.

"I love you."

He hadn't heard it correctly at first. At least, that's what he thought. He looked up, but her face told him everything he ever needed to know.

She had said it.

She had really said it this time.

"I love you more than I can bear," she said. "Even if you don't feel the same."

He froze. This wasn't game. She was really saying it. She really had those ludicrous thoughts in her head that he actually didn't feel the same way and he couldn't speak.

"I know all of this was just sex to you," Blair said.

So there it was. The real reason.

The real reason and he couldn't speak.

"And I can't do it anymore," she said. "I can't do this anymore. I can't be with you like this anymore. I can't be with you, loving you, when I know that you can't reciprocate. It's not that you're unable, but our story ended. And your feelings were telling you that all along."

He had always hated that. He always hated it when people told him how he felt. She knew that. But she truly thought she was righteous in her words.

He couldn't speak.

His breath was caught in his throat and he couldn't breathe. His heart was breaking through his chest, shattering his bones and bleeding into his brain.

"Blair," he stuttered. "I l-"

"Goodbye, Charles."

She never called him that before in her life. She never used his full name. So he stopped.

He thought of Bart. Bart always called him that. He had indulged his nickname when he was younger, but that stopped when he turned ten.

He thought of Bart as he watched Blair walk into the elevator.

The doors closed behind her, but he could still hear it.

Her cries.

Her sobs.

Chuck stared at the wall.


	8. As You Bleed

**A/N**: Since I finally finished writing Reminiscence, this will be my priority. I can't promise that it will be out in a timely fashion, but there are only a few more chapters until it's conclusion.

**Summary**: What he really felt was confusion. He felt narcotics and angst swirling about him and all he knew was that she had left him. All he knew was that he was dying.

**Disclaimer**: Nothing belongs to me. Buffy inspires me and, of course, my OTP Chuck and Blair that I will never give up on. Thanks also to **comewhatmay.x**.

* * *

"Sometimes I wonder if it's me. I know that she keeps things from me. I know it's just in her nature. I try not to judge her too harshly for it. And I try not to resent him—for the way he understands her, and the way he hurts her. So I have to wonder, is it just me? Or can two people who hurt each other so much really fit together so perfectly?"

Dan always remembered wanting to save her. He remembered the very first night that she actually saw him. He picked up her phone in this very same bar he was now seated at. Maybe she needed saving that night. But right now she was sitting at the bar, looking at him imploringly, and Dan knew exactly what Serena had seen.

"I think," Dan said contemplatively, "whether fate or destiny exists, they see too much of each other to let go. They know too much of each other's weaknesses and pleasures."

"That's love, Dan," Serena said.

"Then they're too in love."

"I don't think that's possible," Serena decided.

"Then maybe you believe in destiny."

"Either way," she answered, "it doesn't really matter what I believe. No one really cares."

"I care," Dan said. For the first time in a long time, he finally admitted it to himself. Her smile was tentative, just as it always was with him.

He could never understand that.

"Then I would like to believe that they're meant to be," she said. "Because then these past four years of angst and heartache and beauty will have been for something."

"Do you really think they're beautiful?" Dan asked.

"Since you care," Serena reminded him.

"I do."

"In their own twisted and warped way," Serena replied, "I think they're the most beautiful thing there is. They won't feel complete without each other."

"Do you spend a lot of time thinking about them?" he asked.

"Dan," Serena said. "Did you know?"

Dan just looked. There was something about her that just made him dumb.

"Today I walked in on my best friend and my brother finishing doing...whatever it is that they do, being protected by the guy I thought would be the one to put Blair back together."

"Maybe she doesn't want it," Dan suggested. "She always wanted to put herself back together. And Chuck was the only one who ever understood that."

"Did you know?"

"Yes," Dan said.

He could feel her fading away and he actually felt as though he was losing something.

"She was alone," Dan said. "She didn't tell me. But you have to be blind not to understand the atmosphere surrounding them."

"I would understand," Serena said, "if something happened between the two of you."

"The two of..." Dan started. "Blair and I?"

"I saw you two..."

"Blair is twisted and warped," Dan said. "Just like you said."

"She's beautiful."

"She belongs to someone else," Dan said. "She has for a very long time. Even when they try to convince themselves of something different."

"So you think about them a lot too."

"Only when I know it's pushing you away."

Serena's eyes narrowed and he felt compelled to be nearer to her. When everything was so broken, it was the only thing that made sense to him.

"You love them so much," Dan said. "So I guess I love them too."

"Why do you say that?"

"Serena," Dan said. "He loves her. Just like any other man loves the person he's supposed to be with."

"Like?"

One of them had to say it.

"Like me," Dan said.

He didn't ask for permission. This was the one time when he wasn't tentative either. He wasn't afraid or neurotic. She was there and he was there.

And with that kiss, he could suddenly understand Chuck and Blair a little bit more.

.

"Does it help?"

He couldn't recall hearing the elevator, but Chuck was sure that had to do with the fact that he was completely out of his mind with alcohol.

And other substances.

He still heard her.

He turned smoothly around in the couch to see his blonde sister standing in the foyer.

It wasn't the girl he longed to see. Not even close.

He returned to the table.

"Chuck," Serena said, her voice almost reaching frustration as she stalked towards him. One of the buttons of her outfit was in the wrong hole.

"It used to."

His voice was rough with disuse and overuse of scotch. He could tell by the way she tried to hide her cringe.

"When I was sixteen and I could convince myself that I didn't love her. Now there's nothing that can kill the pain."

He could feel her disgust. He could feel her hypocrisy. He knew the sort of things she had done when she was too young to know any better. And the strange thing was that the one person who was too pure to violate her body with the substances he used was the one person that would never judge him.

"Even that?"

He couldn't even feel the long white lines anymore.

"Even that."

"That's how addictions get started," Serena noted.

A revelation, apparently.

"Started?" Chuck couldn't help but snort. It wasn't joyful laughter, but it was the first of the kind he had used since those elevator doors closed. "I've been addicted to your best friend since the eleventh grade."

For a moment, he was almost relieved at the prospect of her departure. But he supposed that whatever higher powers evidently existed were intent on making him suffer.

He couldn't even drown in his own despair alone anymore.

Serena took a seat beside him. Her posture was stiff and he could sense how uncomfortable she was.

"Chuck."

He hated how she said his name like that. Like she had the right to. As though she had always wanted the best for him.

He knew better.

"Don't," he warned.

"You don't even know what I'm going to say."

"I can feel it," he answered darkly. "I can feel her name at the back of your throat. I can smell the tears you're holding back on her account."

She was quiet for a moment.

It was almost a relief.

"Why does Blair think you don't love her?"

But she did exactly what he had asked her not to.

Chuck finally raised his dark eyes to her clear ones. He was almost impressed at her ability to not shrink away. Or he would have been if he could feel anything at all anymore.

"Why don't you ask her?"

He went with the mature response, instead of saying something undeniably cruel like he was so skilled at doing.

"God," Serena whispered scornfully. "Blair can be so thickheaded when it comes to you. She is the smartest person I know, but when it comes to you, she can never think straight."

"I guess that's why she was with me in the first place," Chuck sneered.

"She wasn't with you because she's ignorant," Serena retorted. She was starting to develop some spine. " She loves you."

It wasn't what he needed to hear at the moment.

"I know," he said quietly.

"Then why didn't you tell her that?" Serena was so incredulous and confused that Chuck almost envied her. To her, everything was so simple. If you loved someone that was it. If you loved someone, you loved them and stayed with them. Serena didn't understand how good she had it.

But Chuck wouldn't trade it in. Not for all his memories. Not even for the cold hard truth.

"Because I'm a coward."

Serena had had enough. If Chuck thought that was what it took to rid himself of her, he would have done it sooner. But he heard the sound of her deafening heels stomping away and he knocked back another glass.

"Give my regards to Humphrey," he said over his shoulder. He heard her hesitate for a moment before she stormed back for the elevator.

She thought she was so inconspicuous.

He could practically smell it all over her.

.

"Did Serena call you?"

All he saw was the shiny surface of the table before him. But he caught her scent the moment she entered the building and he didn't need to look behind him to know the sweet ambrosia that he would never stop missing.

But his scorn was stronger.

"Shut up."

He tried deducing her exact mood by her inflection, the way he always did, but he was sure that the distinct inebriation of the whitest kind was getting in the way of that.

Blair's nails dug into his shoulders, pulling him away from the pretty white lines scattered over the table.

He was surprised she didn't shove her fingers down his throat. He had always been a maelstrom of disaster but what she was doing was unfair. She had left him. She had abandoned him and his storm and yet here she was trying to save him again.

The bathroom tiles were cold, and the snap of the door finally closing alerted him to her emotional state.

Anger.

The way he always made her.

But she wasn't fair. She had to know what she was doing to him. She had to know that catching him in his weakness was further proof that he was undeserving of her affection. She had to know how torturous it was for him to see her like this again.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Chuck stared up at her, finally getting his full vision of her since...that day. The day when his world had truly and completely fallen apart.

His hand clenched on the edge of the sink, pulling himself up.

"What's wrong with you?" Blair asked desperately.

He had a retort. He had a repertoire of all the cruel and hurtful things he could say. But what he really felt was confusion. He felt narcotics and angst swirling about him and all he knew was that she had left him. All he knew was that he was dying.

"I just need these feelings to stop," he said. "I need it all to stop."

His head was pounding and his heart was imploding, but all he could see were her eyes.

All he could see was her scorn.

"Feelings?" Blair repeated with disbelief.

She knew he had feelings. She was the only one who did.

But not right now. Right now, he knew what she thought he was insinuating. He knew that all she thought he was feeling was the serotonin pumping through his brain.

She wasn't wrong.

Somewhat.

But he still saw her. And that was more powerful than any drug.

"Why are you even here?" he spat.

He didn't have her anymore. None of it really mattered. But the one thing he did have left of her was the hurt. He could hurt her more than anyone else. And he knew exactly what words to throw back in her face to do so.

"Because you love me?"

It wasn't the first time.

That wasn't a secret.

It wasn't a secret that he was callous, cold and heartless. That was why she was so much better than him. She was pure and beautiful and he was the opposite. He was corrupted, dark, and horrible.

But she didn't break.

Not the way he expected. That made it all worse. That made it clear how very done she was with him.

"Don't."

She wasn't angry. She wasn't passionate. She was just stating a fact.

"You have the power," she said coolly. "You know you can torture me. Just stop it."

It was the cold. When he looked at Blair, he saw this pure and perfect thing. But he knew what really lay beneath. He knew that there was a part of him that blossomed within her where no one else could see.

He didn't like it. He didn't like his own tricks used against him. He had to win this. If he couldn't win her back, he at least had to win this battle against her. It was all he had left.

"I'm dangerous right now."

Her eyes narrowed and he took for granted how easily others were manipulated. But this was Blair. She was his perfect match. But he was still literally backing her into a corner. And he could still possibly win this.

"You're always dangerous," Blair answered darkly.

He wasn't himself. And that was enough. He was far enough away from himself to do this. He didn't want to scare her. He just wanted her to see.

They were still them.

Chuck and Blair.

"Like us."

He truly was dangerous.

"Chuck-"

She wasn't using his full name now.

"Great love is wild and dangerous."

Her expression was finally faltering. She was stumbling and he was grateful of her own mistake at closing the door behind her. She wasn't fumbling for the doorknob and he wasn't heading into attack.

But he was right.

And at that very moment, he knew that she knew it too.

Everything was dangerous.

"But you don't love me."

Her reminder was cold and he knew that no matter how much he could scare the townies, she was Blair Cornelia Waldorf.

The love of his life.

And he couldn't take the fact that she didn't believe that anymore.

It was fast. It stung. He wished substances weren't permeating his system.

Shards of broken mirror sunk into his flesh. It was only after staring at his shattered reflection had he truly understood what he had done.

And what she was wiping from her cheek wasn't a tear.

Red colored her fingertip as she flecked blood away from her face.

He hoped it was his.

He knew it wasn't.

But she wasn't afraid. She was just staring at him curiously like he was some science experiment that she had been ordered to analyze.

She wasn't running.

And she wasn't afraid.

But he was.

"No," she finally said, clearing her throat succinctly. "You don't love me."

He didn't understand. He couldn't understand any of this anymore. He knew a time when she would literally run in the other direction from him. He would make her cry and scream at him.

She wasn't even fazed.

She just stared.

He felt like vomiting.

He didn't take a step forward. In another time and place where he hadn't just attacked her, he would have. But he was angry

He was always angry. He hated himself at every little thing because he knew it was always his fault. Everything that happened to her was all his fault.

"Why aren't you afraid?" he demanded.

He was yelling and he was furious, but she just didn't seem to care.

She just stared.

"I am afraid," she finally answered after a moment. "I'm afraid of what you're doing to yourself. And I'm afraid because I don't know why you're doing it."

There was nothing left to say. He wasn't jealous. He wasn't trying to destroy her. They were at some sort of stalemate because he evidently couldn't hurt her any longer and she just didn't care.

She sighed.

They were in a gridlock and in his confusion, there was nothing left to do but leave.

Blair sighed and turned away from him. He was sure the time before would be the last time. He knew this must be hell. Because he was forever fated to watch her walk away from him.

The door closed behind her.

His knuckles were bleeding and he raised his fist again. He watched it crash into the remains of the mirror.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Until there was nothing left.

.

He wasn't stumbling. He knew that, compared to days, or even hours ago, this was a step forward. He had sweated and purged all of the toxins out of his body and the only thing that remained of his self-loathing and monstrosity was the bandage around his left hand.

It wasn't any consolation. He may have been completely sober, but that made all of his sins even more clear and nauseating to him.

"What are you doing here?"

And to Dan Humphrey, apparently.

Chuck refrained from doing a double take. He hadn't even seen the vermin, but he knew that tone of voice, and knew that it was almost always directed at him.

He slowly pivoted towards the person who, as of yet, was the only one standing between him and what he had come for.

"Funny," Chuck said, the most cutting condescension he could muster lacing his words. "I don't recall you gaining any social status since the last time I was forced to be in the same proximity as you."

Dan glowered.

"What did you do to merit an invitation?"

"I didn't realize passes were required to speak to physical abusers."

Both of their eyes drifted down to Chuck's bandaged knuckles.

"Everyone knows what you did to her."

"Why don't you enlighten me, then?" Chuck challenged.

He was relieved to catch the interloper off guard.

"I'm curious to hear what your theories are."

"Foundation doesn't always cover that cut on her face."

"And what is it you think I did?" Chuck asked. "Scratched her face with my knuckles, did I?"

Dan's jaw set and Chuck couldn't help but snort.

"You don't know anything."

"I know you hurt her," Dan said.

"I don't deny that," Chuck said begrudgingly. "But I do have to wonder after you and my sister's very recent reconciliation, why you seem to be so invested in Blair and my affairs. Does Serena know how protective you are?"

"Blair is Serena's best friend," Dan said. "Do you really think she would have a problem with me looking out for her?"

"Depends on where you're looking," Chuck said shortly.

"Can the two of you go one night without getting into a class feud?"

Chuck never did expect it to be easy.

But her voice was right in his ear. And as nasty as it might have been, he was thankful she was even deigning to speak with him, even if the conversation was brought about by Dan Humphrey.

"Blair," Dan cut in quickly.

"Spare me the protective act," Blair said. "We're not that close. And keep that smirk off your face."

She wasn't looking at Dan anymore and Chuck realized nothing was even close to being solved. He was relieved by her presence, forgetting the reason why he was even here. She was looking at him with that look that broke his heart and he knew that nothing was that easy to solve.

"I just need to talk," Chuck said steadily.

"Like she'd ever-"

"Humphrey," Blair said sharply.

He knew that feeling. The need to prove the Brooklynite wrong, but also wanting to spite Chuck.

"So talk," Blair said through gritted teeth.

"To you," Chuck said. "Alone."

"Alone," Blair repeated laughingly.

"Just talking," he promised.

"Like you'd have a choice even if you wanted something else," Blair said spitefully. But she was walking and Chuck took the signal to follow.

"What?"

Chuck closed the bedroom door behind them quietly, trying to gather his bearings. He hadn't even been sure that he would get this far.

But he was.

And he was going to take advantage

"You know that I will never forgive myself for the other ni-"

"Forget about it."

It was one of the only times he could admit he had no idea how to proceed.

"What?"

"Eloquent," Blair sighed. "I said-"

"You want me to forget what I did to you?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Blair said. "It's just a scratch."

"But I-"

"I don't blame you," Blair said, finally alluding to the fact that she had feelings. "It doesn't really matter."

"How can it not?" he asked.

"You hurt me," Blair said. "But it isn't like you haven't done that before. As far as I'm concerned, we're over. I'm forgetting all the hurt and putting it in the past. Let's leave it there."

His insides were brewing. It was only at that moment did he realize what he had come to that night. It was the only thing that had ever been real. It was them.

He had to tell her.

He had to tell her the truth—the truth about how he had always felt. He had been a fool for being tongue-tied and letting her go yet again. Like it had been two years ago at a White Party where he was still some confused seventeen year old kid.

He knew differently this time. He knew what was important. But she was there and she was real and, as always, she was the most intimidating thing he had ever seen. He could never really say anything in her presence.

"Blair, I have to tell you something."

"It's alright," Blair said. "You don't have to apologize. Let's just forget it."

"No, that's not-"

Sounds thudded below them from the party and Chuck pinched the bridge of his noise. The entire atmosphere was breaking his train of thought.

"Is that it?" she asked.

"No," Chuck said snappishly. She was looking at him with something that closely resembled pity and he was even more distracted by his angst boiling beneath his skin.

"Why do you even care?"

Chuck heard another thud from the bowels of the party, but broke away to lock eyes with her.

"Of course I care-"

"But why?" Blair asked. "I get that it was an accident. I get that you care. We're friends. I accepted your apology. Why does this matter so much to you?"

"Blair," Chuck said again. "I came here with the intention to-"

"We've talked about this," she said. "You don't have to let me down easy. I know you don't feel the same way."

Her voice was breaking and if he weren't so distracted he could finally tell her the truth.

"I'll always love you."

His breath stopped right in his throat, and this time, he did forget what he was about to say.

"You know that," she said. "But I can't be this way with you. I can't involve myself with you when you don't feel the same way. You need to understand that."

"I want to be with you for a reason," Chuck finally choked out.

"Familiarity," Blair said coolly, completely unfazed.

"No, that's not-"

It was on the tip of his tongue. He truly would have said it.

If the door hadn't burst open.

Chuck's eyes narrowed over Blair's shoulder, fully intent on reprimanding the intruder who interrupted one of the most meaningful moments of his life.

It never happened.

It was only one second. There was only one second when it occurred to Chuck that something was devastatingly wrong. He only had a second. Time didn't slow. All there had been was a click in his brain and a distinct pop traveling through the air.

Blair's body spasmed with one short shake. All expression left her face as she stared at him. She was raising her hand, but all he could do was just stand there.

"Your shirt," Blair said faintly. Chuck looked down stupidly at his white front to see blood spattered all over his chest.

Her blood.

Blair's blood.

His breaths quickened, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Blair's hand raised to his front. She placed it over his heart where her blood soaked him to the bone.

Chuck finally looked directly to her. Blood pooled across her chest quicker than he ever thought possible.

Blair's knees buckled and Chuck's arms were around her instinctively as she collapsed. The warmth of her blood soaked through his shirt and he held her tight. His knees hit the ground, his arms still full of her.

Her eyes were closed.

"Blair."

He didn't know what else to do. Her fluids were spilling from her body and he didn't know what to do.

"I love you."

It was the first straightforward thing he had said all night.

"I love you," he said. "I _love_ you, please."

Her breaths were shallow and Chuck finally remembered they weren't alone.

He looked up to the form in the doorway. He felt his insides contract and burn with anger and red swept his vision at the person holding the gun. The person who orchestrated a bullet tunneling through the love of his life.

Princeton.


	9. As You Lay Dying

A/N: Since there's only one chapter after this, I'm just going to submit it. There was going to be a longer wait, but hopefully, the anticipation is killing you. The ending is cheesy, so I hope you can handle it.

Summary: "I want to cut his heart out. But she's hurt. Really hurt. And I don't know how to fix that. If he destroyed her reputation or hurt her status, I could fix that. I don't know what to do now."

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. All is GG. Corrections are that of my beta **comewhatmay.x**.

* * *

The night was relatively warm.

It was something he would notice if his brain wasn't on overdrive. Blue and red lights flashed across his face, and sirens screamed through his brain. He knew instructions were being shouted but everything was muted. He saw his sister's wide blue eyes imploring him.

He couldn't comprehend any of it.

All he saw was the girl bleeding from her chest being carefully loaded into the back of an ambulance.

"She was shot?"

They were talking to him.

He had been the one who was there with her. He was the one who had called.

He could finally hear.

"In the back," Chuck said quietly.

It was loud enough.

The paramedics were speaking in dulcet tones to each other and Chuck knew it wasn't good.

The bullet went straight through.

Serena knew it too. Her cries were hard and sharp, breaking through the din.

"Accidental?"

Everything was moving too fast—but Blair was slipping away even faster.

"I-"

And Chuck realized something. The paramedic was looking at him expectantly.

"I don't know."

Beneath the surface, he wanted to answer in the affirmative. He wanted to believe that it had been an accident.

But he really didn't know.

"Her pulse is weak."

They weren't talking to him anymore.

"What?"

They were clambering inside the back of the vehicle and Chuck couldn't stop himself from following.

"What does that mean?" Chuck asked desperately.

"Sir. You have to stand back."

They were close to shutting the doors and he was still outside. They were taking him away from her.

Someone else had taken him from her.

"Caucasian female," Chuck overheard. "Approximately twenty years old."

"Wait." He had to see her. He couldn't see her anymore.

"Who are you?"

The question was snappish and Chuck couldn't answer. He couldn't answer any of these questions. Everything was so sudden and so frightening that he didn't know what to do anymore.

He stuttered again.

"He's her fiancée."

Chuck turned at Serena's familiar voice.

"Serena," Dan said sharply, pulling her back. "Do you even know what he did?"

"He's her fiancée," Serena said with more certainty than Chuck had ever heard.

He stood still.

"Well, sir?"

Chuck looked up at the paramedic who was addressing him.

"Are you coming or not?"

There was no hesitation.

It wasn't even a question.

* * *

He couldn't help but marvel at it. Pain ripped through his chest at the very sight of it. Just like hers. But he couldn't help but stare at the horror of it all. How they had to close her up just because a small ball of metal tore right through her.

Chuck watched the surgeons through the window, stricken from the tubes flowing from her mouth. Blood was everywhere. People were hovering over her.

But all he could think of was how big of a scar would remain. It was all he could bear to think of.

Because the very thought that she may not survive was something that he couldn't even address.

"If she's dead, so are you."

Chuck didn't bother turning around. But traitorous eyes were reflected in the window displaying Blair's operation. He couldn't bring himself to turn around.

"I know," Princeton said quietly.

It took only two words to let Chuck know it was an accident. But that wasn't worth anything to him. Whether it was intentional or not was irrelevant. Blair was in an operating room, and every second was counting towards whether or not she would survive.

And through all of his rage and heart wrenching pain, his curiosity still got the better of him.

"Why did you have a gun?" Chuck asked, turning around.

He couldn't help but stare in surprise. This was not the same man he had met not so long ago.

Princeton no longer looked perfect. Instead, he was gaunt and frail. Perspiration had caused his hair to stick to his forehead and Chuck knew it wasn't due to stress.

Or at least, it wasn't due to the stress he had caused a bleeding girl. His eyes traveled over Chuck's shoulder and to the window.

"You don't get to look at her," Chuck stated lowly. Princeton's eyes snapped back to attention.

"For protection," Princeton finally answered. "That's what it was for."

"From what?" Chuck asked. "Me?"

"Of course not," Princeton scoffed. And Chuck knew this was so much bigger than some Ivy graduate's strange urge to protect what didn't belong to him.

"Then why did you shoot?" Chuck asked.

"I thought you were someone else," Princeton answered diplomatically.

"Who could you possibly..." Chuck trailed off. He looked at Princeton's fragile exterior and his ghostly pallor. He lunged forward.

Predictably, Princeton fought him off. It just made Chuck grab harder. He saw the way Princeton guarded his forearms and Chuck knew exactly where to strike.

He pulled up Princeton's sleeves.

Ugly track marks trailed up Princeton's arm and Chuck pushed him away in disgust.

"You should attempt to get dealers that won't try to kill you if you owe them money," Chuck spat. "Maybe then you wouldn't need a gun."

Chuck had seen this all before. In Thailand. He knew he was bordering on hypocrisy, but he had never caused Blair physical harm like that. He never could.

And to think he was the one that Eleanor had tried to shield her daughter from.

She should have been looking inside her own circle.

"I just came to see if she was alright," Princeton said shakily, pulling his sleeves down. His eyes darted to passing doctors, avoiding their probing gazes.

"That's the thing about shooting someone near vital organs," Chuck said darkly. "You don't know if they're ever going to wake up."

"I'm sorry-"

"Do you really think that's any consolation?" Chuck snapped. "I suppose you're just one of those functional junkies. You can't spot them by eye until their stash has run low and they're shooting at innocent bystanders."

"I never meant-"

"You killed her."

It was the truest statement that could ever be said.

"You destroyed her from the inside," Chuck said, taking dangerous steps forward. "Do you have any idea what that's like? Do you know what a bullet feels like?"

He was suddenly on the streets of Prague again, but this was different. She hadn't done anything. He had known what was coming when he held onto that ring.

She didn't deserve this.

She had never done anything to deserve this.

"I cared about Blair," Princeton said.

"So did I," Chuck said. "And I may have hurt her. But never like this. She's in surgery. Do you even understand what that means?"

"Will she be okay?"

"I don't know," Chuck said, hating those words on his tongue again. Those three words that he hated. He hated not knowing if his very life was about to collapse or not. How easily it had before. And with one mistake, it could happen again. It could happen right now as he was talking to the very thing that had caused it.

"I should call the police," Chuck warned. "Even though that doesn't even seem close to the amount of punishment you deserve."

"I know I can't apologize-"

"But I'll settle for never seeing you again," Chuck interrupted, not having a care for anything that came out of his mouth. He looked up scathingly. "I want to kill you."

It was one of the most honest things he had ever said.

"I know," Princeton said, unable to keep eye contact.

"If something happens to her," Chuck warned, "I will."

There was nothing more to be said. Chuck's intent was clear.

He almost regretted letting Princeton walk away.

He needed blood vengeance to satisfy him.

If something happened to her, it would be the only thing he would have left.

"What was that?"

* * *

Her voice was choked with tears. Chuck couldn't help but hate himself for not being able to show any emotion at all.

Not that he ever did.

"What did it look like?" Chuck growled, pushing past her in the waiting room.

"It looked like you were attacking Princeton."

"Princeton?" Chuck snarled, hating the nausea of having that very name on his tongue. "_Princeton_?"

"What happened?"

But the look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know. She knew exactly what happened.

"What do you think happened?" Chuck snapped. "Why do you think Blair is here in the first place?"

"I don't know," Serena cried. "You didn't tell me. No one ever tells me anything."

"Well now you know."

"No," Serena said softly. "I don't."

"He's a _junkie_, Serena," he growled. "He was at that party looking for smack."

"But why-"

"He owes money," Chuck said. "And he knows it. He knows he's trash and he couldn't pay his dealer so he brought protection. It was dark. He thought he saw something."

"He shot Blair." She was crying.

"Yes," Chuck ground out. "He was high and he burst into a room without any idea as to what was going on. And he just fired. Does that satisfy your quest for knowledge? Do you understand now that she didn't deserve any of it? It was just a stupid accident and she just-"

He felt it at the back of his throat. He felt something he only felt when he was alone with one other person. On the floor of the same hospital where she had held his hand.

_You carry people._

"She's dying for nothing."

He thrust his foot forward, catching a chair on the edge with a clatter.

_You carry me._

People were staring.

His head was in his hands and he just pretended he wasn't doing what everyone else knew he was doing.

"You let him go," Serena said quietly, sitting beside him.

"What would you have me do?" Chuck asked darkly.

"I don't know..."

"Destroy him?" Chuck asked. "Ruin him with all of my resources? Nothing I do will ever be enough to make him pay."

"She's not dying, Chuck."

"I have to be prepared for the possibility."

"But she's not-"

"You don't know that," Chuck bit out. "You can't know that."

"So that's it?" Serena asked. "He's just gone?"

"Blair deserves better," Chuck said. "If she wakes up, I should be here. Not off on some vendetta."

"But you want to."

"Of course I want to," Chuck replied. "I want to cut his heart out. But she's hurt. Really hurt. And I don't know how to fix that. If he destroyed her reputation or hurt her status, I could fix that. I don't know what to do now."

"How do you think she felt," Serena asked, "when she heard about you in Prague?"

"I was fine."

"She didn't know that," Serena replied. "She heard that there was a body in a morgue with your wallet."

"That wasn't me."

"And then she saw you."

"She told me she didn't love me."

"She lied."

"I know."

"What are you going to do about it?"

Chuck looked up. Serena could be so confusing sometimes. She was so convinced that Blair was going to pull through. He never had that optimism. All he knew was that the world could end so easily. She was always taken from him so easily.

He didn't think he could do it anymore.

"Are you the family of Blair Waldorf?"

Chuck heard Serena answer in the affirmative, but this whole situation was so formal it reminded him of wakes and wills and dossiers.

"Chuck," Serena nudged him in the ribs.

"You're her fiancée," the doctor said. Chuck looked up.

"You're family," Serena whispered to him.

"Don't you want to see her?"

"What?" Chuck asked distantly.

"Don't you want to see Blair?"

"She's..." Chuck couldn't even say it.

"He wants to see her," Serena answered for him.

"Is she..." Chuck fumbled for words.

The doctor just smiled.

Chuck hated how no one was saying anything concrete.

"She was in critical for awhile," the doctor said as they headed towards the ICU. "There was a lot of blood loss."

"Lucky," Chuck murmured.

"All things considered," the doctor said. "Yes."

They stopped before the transparent door. The curtains were drawn.

"Is she-"

"She's sleeping," the doctor said.

"He shot her in the back."

"It missed any major organs."

"Her heart," Chuck said distantly.

"She was lucky."

"Lucky."

The doctor opened the door for him. She was so small and so pale.

"It went right through her."

"Like I said," the doctor replied. "She was lucky."

"I don't know what that means," Chuck said.

"It means she'll recover."

He closed the door behind him.

Chuck sat. He held her hand and he watched her chest rise with every full breath she could still take.

His hip throbbed.

* * *

"What are you doing here?"

When she had been asleep, she had been tranquil. Just like anyone would be. She could have woken to look at him with grateful eyes—not that he expected as much.

He still didn't expect this. Even though he probably should have.

"I think you should leave," she said, stubbornly refusing to look at him.

"You know why I'm here," he said after a moment.

"No."

"You were shot," he said bluntly. "You collapsed in my arms."

"Thanks for not letting me hit the floor," she said. "I know that must have taken some effort."

"You can't think that," he said in disbelief. "I'm here because I care about you. When you fell...You have no idea what I was feeling."

"Don't I?" Blair snapped. "I may not have been there that time, but watching you limp across that train station was the most frightening experience of my life."

She was looking at him now.

"I came here because I care about you," he said again. "And I was scared. You know that."

She looked away again.

"I tried to bring you back," he said. "I tried to tell you-"

She was staring at the window with the most concentration that he had ever seen. And quite suddenly, strange hope bloomed in his chest with a force he didn't know was possible at the moment.

"That's it," he said in wonder, "isn't it?"

Her posture stiffened.

"You heard me, didn't you?"

She was sitting up straight, eyes trained on the opposite wall, and it was with certainty that he knew that she understood exactly what he was talking about.

And he knew she was going to be okay. She was going to live.

Because they loved each other.

"Did you hear me? I told you I loved you."

"You thought I was dying," Blair snapped. She was finally glaring at him and it was the best he had felt since he could remember.

"You were dying," he said gravely. But he moved closer to her bed. "And I love you."

"You don't mean it," Blair replied coldly.

"Why not?"

"Because after everything I did to you, how could you?"

"Everything you did?" Chuck asked, almost laughably. "It's a wonder that you can even love me after what I did."

"I could never stop loving you," she said quietly.

"And you think I could?"

He could see it in her eyes. It wasn't that she didn't believe him. She had been denying it all along. She was just as scared as him. More.

"You don't know-"

"Oh, I see," Chuck said coldly. "You think you're better than me. Because only you could feel this way. Tortured and desperate."

"I don't think I'm better than you," Blair said. "I left you behind. I manipulated you. I used you."

"You love me." Chuck smiled with more confidence than he knew he was capable of. "I told the doctors that I'm your fiancée."

"What?" Blair asked. "Why would you do that?"

"What else would you call me?"

"I don't know what to call you."

He didn't ask. Without any preamble whatsoever, he sat beside her.

"You never asked permission," she said, giving him a look he was sure she thought was scathing.

"I suppose I'm too entitled," he replied.

"Or maybe you don't need it."

He took her hand in his.

"I never thought I would find you," he said, staring at her knuckles.

"I never thought I would be the one who ran."

"It's okay," he said. "I have high endurance for chasing you."

His arm was around her and for a moment, he could pretend that she wasn't dressed in a hideous hospital gown, and hooked up to machines. He could pretend that they were actually in their own bed—the one they used to share.

"I want to stay with you."

"So do I," she finally said. "But I don't think you're allowed."

Sure enough, hours into the night when they were curled onto an uncomfortably small hospital bed, they were roused by an annoyed nurse.

"It's past visiting hours. Who do you think you are?"

Blair's eyes fluttered up at him and she gave him a small smile.

It was too easy.

"I'm Chuck Bass."


	10. Epilogue

"What are you doing here?"

A day. A week. A year. There no longer existed the concept of time, or a line between reality and fantasy. They were in this strange limbo where he didn't know what to do, what to say. She always threw the world as he knew it into chaos.

Her walking through his door didn't make it any better. It just made him need her more. Restless and dark, it was all he understood. Because it was the middle of the night and he hadn't slept since the sound of a single gunshot thundered through him.

"I walked."

His first instinct was to state that her response wasn't exactly an answer to his question. But it had occurred to him that she was in heels and a dress supplied by the hospital.

She had _walked_.

"You _what_?"

He eased up off the couch he had drunkenly made a home for himself since it was quite clear he was no longer desired at her bedside.

"You weren't there anymore."

"They didn't appreciate my presence ever since I threatened your doctor's job."

"I couldn't sleep," Blair announced.

"Oh." Looking at her was proving to be more difficult.

"Without you."

It was quiet and he sort of didn't care if he had imagined it. Because he was feeling the exact same thing.

"We haven't..." Chuck finally said, "done that. In a very long time."

"Just selfish pleasure for us, then." Her smile was pained and he felt it in his heart. How they had only had carnal relations without the literal meaning of sleeping with each other.

"If it's any consolation-"

"I miss it," Blair cut in, knowing exactly what he was about to say. The same thing she was thinking. "That's all."

Chuck was standing in the middle of his room, his customary glass in his hand, concerned with the fact that there really wasn't anything else to say. She just took steady steps towards him.

Her fingers wrapped around his, easing the glass from his hand before placing it on the table.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

Her voice was curious and innocent and he hated the things she did to him. He hated how her hand crept to his shirtfront, unbuttoning slowly.

He grabbed her hand.

"I want to see it," she said insistently.

"Blair," he said, his voice rough. "You've seen it."

"But you never showed it to me."

She made him vulnerable. Somehow, she made him good. She was always right. How in their most intimate moments, he never allowed himself to be vulnerable. He never showed it to anyone. They just saw it.

But instead, he reached for her own clothing. It didn't take much to show the sliver of scar tissue below her shoulder.

"Who will want me now?" she asked, her voice cracking. He hated how easily she could cry. "I'm deformed."

"You know," he said. Her eyes penetrated his but he let go of her. "I'm so sorry. For all the pain that I've caused you."

Her eyes narrowed. "For this?"

"Who else could be at fault?"

"I don't know," she answered concisely. "My back was to the door."

"But you know-"

"Yes," she answered. "I know. But all I heard that night was that you loved me. Is that not true anymore?"

"It's always true," he answered. "I'll always want you. And I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she said softly. Her hands felt for his shirt again. "Open your eyes."

They were scarred and they were ugly, but they were perfect.

"I'm deformed," he mimicked, hating her eyes on his weakest part.

"You're beautiful," she said. "If this is anyone's fault-"

"It's the filthy thief that took away from me the only thing I had left."

She let go. "Do you have it now?"

"I do," he answered. "I'm saving it."

"For the right girl?" she asked stiffly.

"For the right time," he answered. "And it's coming."

He was too addicted to her smile.

"Will you play me something?"

She was innocent and beautiful. And he would never let anything hurt her again. Even if she was asking of him the one thing he was afraid of now.

"Blair," Chuck said warningly.

"I know you can," she teased. "Even if no one else does."

He sighed. But he took her hand, leading her to the piano.

"Only for you," he said as they sat themselves at the bench. "I've only ever done this for you."

He rested his fingers on the keys.

"I can't sleep either," he confessed quietly before starting.

He heard her voice beneath the music.

"I know."

She leaned her head against his shoulder as they made music together again.

* * *

**a.n.** The end of this short-ish journey. Thanks to everyone, my beta comewhatmay.x and the Whedonverse for inspiration to put words to the GG-verse's mouths.


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